


Been Loving You Too Long

by esteel



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Break Up, Cheating, Cussing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Forgiveness, Getting Back Together, M/M, Post-Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-02 08:06:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 117,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteel/pseuds/esteel
Summary: This is an anatomy of a flawed, but true love. I've read many stories about Ian cheating, but very few with Mickey cheating. I think Mickey is perfectly capable of cheating, and I think that Ian has the capacity to forgive, as well. They have a lot to reckon with, but their love will stand the test. The title is taken from the Otis Redding song 'I've Been Loving You Too Long.Here and Now is the sequel to this story.





	1. A Regrettable Night

A Regrettable Night

Ian was sitting at the far end of the bar in Preppy’s, a popular restaurant in the upscale River North neighborhood. He sipped his beer as he watched Mickey swagger behind the hostess as she led him to a booth occupied by an attractive man with curly blond hair. 

The man smiled and stood when he saw Mickey. He had a nice smile, was a couple inches taller than Mickey, but much slimmer. Mickey walked up to the man and kissed him. As he watched them, Ian was consumed with a sudden wave of anger that gave way to an overwhelming sadness. 

He was so caught up in his emotions, he didn’t notice the bartender setting a glass down in front of him until the guy rapped the bar with his knuckles. He looked up in confusion, he hadn’t ordered a drink, he was drinking beer. The bartender smiled and nodded at Mickey’s table 

“For you handsome, on me. Looks like you need it. Name’s Marco by the way”. 

Ian looked at him with sad eyes “I’m Ian. Thanks Marco. Guess I do need it”. Marco winked at him and walked away when another customer called him.

From his seat, Ian had a clear view of Mickey’s booth. While he waited for Mickey to get comfortable, he thought back to the events of that morning. 

He was getting dressed and Mickey was in the shower. Mickey’s phone beeped twice with incoming texts. Ian thought it might be work, so he picked the phone up and read the texts. 

Both were from John, confirming plans for tonight at Preppy’s at 8:30. Another text came in while Ian was reading the first two, 

“Looking forward. Can’t wait. Don’t be late”. 

He put the phone back where it was and finished getting dressed. He’d known about John for a couple of weeks now. Tonight, he would let Mickey know that he knew.  
No more late nights with flimsy ass excuses. No more leaving the room to answer a call or a text. No more anger and hostility when Ian questioned his odd behavior. No more excuses when Ian wanted sex. When they did fuck, Mickey wouldn’t even look at him anymore. No more. He was done. 

He loved Mickey more than anything in the world, but he wasn’t a fucking pussy. Mickey wanted John, he can have him, whoever the fuck he is. Ian was getting out of his damn way. 

When Mickey came into the bedroom after his shower, Ian told him that someone had been blowing up his phone. Mickey snatched up his phone, muttering 

“Work”. 

“Got an emergency or something?” 

“Nah, just something I gotta handle. I’ll be late tonight”. 

Ian asked why and Mickey snapped “I don’t have time for this shit. I get calls about work, Ian. No big mystery. You get calls and texts about work all the time, I don’t bitch at you. I work late sometimes. When you work late, I don’t bitch about it”. 

“I’m not bitching, just want you to talk to me. Come on Mick, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing is fucking going on Ian. Why’re you making such a big fucking deal about a text? I told you it’s work. Now drop it, fucks sake. Gotta get ready, I’m running late”. 

He finished dressing, grabbed his jacket, his messenger bag and headed for the door. All the while refusing to meet Ian’s eyes. 

Ian asked “Aren’t you gonna eat? I made pancakes and sausage”. 

“Don’t have time. I’ll get something at the hospital. See you tonight”. 

Ian walked over to him “What time? How late you gonna be tonight huh Mickey? You were out past midnight a couple days ago. Came in after 10 last night”. 

He let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes “Fuck, I don’t know, Ian. Late. Probably real late. What, you checking up on me now? I got a curfew or something?” 

Mickey grabbed his keys and walked out, slamming the door. He leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes, the stunned look on Ian’s face was engraved in his mind. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Terry always told me that I was a piece of shit. Fuck. Fuck. He took a deep breath and walked to the elevator.

Ian knew what he had to do. He loved Mickey and wanted him to be happy. Mickey had always done everything he could to make him happy, even when he had done things to hurt Mickey. He had long since stopped blaming his bad behavior on bipolar disorder. 

He had abandoned Mickey more than once, he had cheated on him. He had even laughed in Mickey’s face when he told him that he loved him. After all that, Mickey still gave him another chance. 

Ian promised that he’d spend the rest of his life making Mickey happy. Well, it was time for him to prove it, no matter how much it hurt. And it did hurt, it hurt like a fucking bitch. Mickey had found someone to love him better. He just had to accept it because he knew that Mickey wouldn’t arbitrarily cheat on him. 

This John, whoever the fuck he is, is who Mickey wanted, who he had chosen. Well, fuck John. And fuck Mickey. Fuck them both.

Ian called his office to let Charles, his assistant, know that he would be working from home today. He had Charles reschedule his appointments, and they worked on whatever needed his immediate attention. 

He was glad that he had kept Charles on as his administrative assistant. He had been the previous Vice President’s assistant and had been pleased when Ian asked him to stay on. Ian’s transition to his new position had been seamless thanks in no small measure to Charles. 

After they had taken care of everything, he asked Charles to messenger over the key to the corporate apartment. 

“Will do, Ian”, no questions asked. 

Ian liked that about the man. No unnecessary questions. While he waited for the key to arrive, he started packing his shit. 

As he wrapped pictures of his family, he decided to let Mickey deal with everything else. He would only take his clothes and personal items. Let Mickey sort out the rest. Ian was done. He had a plan and he would see it through. What fucking choice did he have? 

The key to his new home arrived just as he finished packing. He took one last look around the home he and Mickey had made together. 

He scanned the wall filled with pictures. He and Mickey smiling, kissing, laughing, holding hands as they watched the sunset surrounded by the Pacific Ocean. 

Pictures of them living their life, so glad to be back together, promising each other a lifetime of love and happiness. His stood in front of his favorite chair running his fingers over the afghan laying across it, with tears in his eyes. He remembered the day they bought the afghan. 

They were on vacation in Mexico last winter. Mickey was grumpy because they had been walking all day and hadn’t bought a single thing. Mickey had snatched up the afghan, marched over to the old lady in charge “We’ll take this. How much? Don’t try to cheat me either.” He laughed until he was in tears, annoying Mickey even more. He’d kissed the frown from Mickey’s beautiful face. They had been so fucking happy.

He was sobbing as he walked into their bedroom. He sat on the bed clutching Mickey’s pillow to his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent, a scent he had always loved.  
He remembered how they had loved each other so completely, the boundless passion they shared, the tender moments in this bed. Their bed. What was he gonna do without his Mickey?  
No one else could ever come close. Their love was supposed to last forever. Mickey was his soulmate. 

He wondered where he had gone so wrong. What the fuck did he do that was so wrong? 

An overwhelming sadness gripped him, as he sank to his knees, tears pouring from his eyes. 

How could Mickey decide he wanted someone else? What the fuck am I gonna do without him? I’ve loved him all my life. He’s always been mine, I’ve always been his, even when we didn’t wanna be. We always found our way back to each other. Fuck. This is how he must’ve felt when I left him, the times I cheated on him. God, I’m so sorry Mickey. Sorry for everything. 

Should I fight for him? He fought so hard for me when I was diagnosed. He fought his fucking father for me. But I don’t think he wants me to fight for him. He wants John. He wouldn’t cheat if he wasn’t serious about him. 

Guys always hit on Mickey. He’s so beautiful, he’s perfect. But those other guys never even phased him. He’d laugh at their suggestive looks and keep on loving me. He’d say “You don’t have nothing to worry about, man. You’re it for me. You're my man forever”. 

Well, he’s obviously changed his damn mind. He just doesn’t know how to tell me. Well fuck him. I’ll help his ass along. I’m gonna get the fuck on up outta here. 

When there were no more tears left, he got up and went into the bathroom. He washed his face and took a long look at himself. 

Mickey doesn’t want you anymore. He found someone better. You gotta go on. You can’t relapse, everyone will be expecting you to fall back into your old habits.  
Mickey will feel guilty, probably wanna stay with you out of pity. You are managing your symptoms and you will keep it up. Your life is not over. You will adjust, you’ve done it before. You have an amazing new job, people are depending on you. Most importantly, you are giving Mickey the space to be happy. He wouldn’t hurt you like this if he could help it. He just loves someone else now. 

He left the bathroom and went back into the bedroom. He took all his clothes from the closet and the dresser. He made sure the bedroom was tidy, and slowly closed the door. 

He stood in the living room resting a hand on the back of Mickey’s recliner. He groaned painfully, remembering the times Mickey sat him down in it and eased himself down on his dick. He remembered Mickey’s unbridled passion. In this chair. It had been their favorite piece of furniture. Now Mickey avoided the chair like it was the clap. 

He sighed and swiped at his tears. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. I gotta get out of here. He dried his face with backs of both hands and grabbed his leather jacket from the hook by the door. 

After his truck was packed, he took one last look at his home, his and Mickey’s home. The home they made together. 

He didn’t know what Mickey would do. Would John move in? Would they find another place to make a home of their own? Start fresh?

He knew that this train of thought was dangerous for him. He couldn’t afford to dwell on what Mickey and John would do. Mickey had made his choice.

The corporation he worked for leased two units in an apartment building in the north loop. A unit was available to Ian for as long as he wanted it.  
When he left Mickey tonight, he wouldn’t have very far to go. 

He parked in front of his new building, and the doorman helped him load his things on a cart. He got off the elevator on the 21st floor and found his apartment. He stood staring at the door to his new home. A home without Mickey. He belonged to someone else now. 

He squared his shoulders and unlocked the door. 

The apartment was beautiful and spacious, filled with sunlight shining through the floor to ceiling windows. The plush carpet matched the walls. There were two large over-stuffed sofas, and a large arm chair. A long rectangular glass coffee table sat in front of one sofa, and smaller matching tables with lamps sat near the other sofa and the chair. A desk with a comfortable looking swivel chair sat in one corner of the room. 

The kitchen was ultra-modern, with two-toned cabinets, stainless steel appliances, quartz counter tops, and a large breakfast nook with a table and two upholstered chairs. 

A king-size bed sat in the middle of the master bedroom, a huge walk-in closet, an ensuite bathroom (of course there was), the shower was big enough for two, and a large bathtub sat off to the side. 

There was another bedroom down the hall and along with a 1 ½ bath. The beautiful patio looked out over the city. The comfortable ivory furniture looked inviting. 

He had everything he needed. He certainly appreciated the luxury, but he couldn’t bring himself to be excited. He was alone, without Mickey. 

He was glad that he didn’t have to go home to his family. It would be bad enough having to listen to their opinions when they found out he had moved out. But he wouldn’t think about that now, he couldn’t afford to. He had learned how to handle them and handle them he would in due time. 

He unpacked his things quickly, deciding to leave his pictures in the closet for now. He considered placing the one picture he had of Mickey on his bedside table but decided not to. Mickey belonged to someone else now. 

He sighed and took his laptop to the living room, he might as well get some work done while he waited. Or maybe he would do some shopping, he preferred home cooked meals. They were healthier. 

He went to the kitchen and was about to open the fridge when he noticed a post-it. 

It was a note from Charles: “Ian, I picked up a few things for you. Didn’t know if you would have time. If you need anything else, please let me know”. 

The cabinet was stocked with staples: sugar, coffee, spices, flour, oil, canned and dry soup, pancake mix, tomato sauce, and pasta. He opened the refrigerator to find two kinds of milk, eggs, bread, butter, vegetables, steak, chicken, deli corned beef and smoked turkey, bacon, and sausage. There were two cases each of water and his favorite beer. 

He reflected again on his decision to keep Charles as his assistant. He shot the man a quick text, thanking him for his thoughtfulness. Then he made himself a large turkey sandwich, opened a beer and settled at the table to work. 

He knew that it was important for him to keep busy, establish a routine. He did not plan to spiral. He would not. He was perfectly capable of managing his life. His life without Mickey.

He couldn’t concentrate, so he finally gave up, closed his laptop and gave in to his thoughts. 

He wondered how Mickey would react to him moving out. He didn’t even know about Ian’s new job. He knew that Ian was competing for a new position, but he didn’t know that Ian got it. Ian Gallagher was now the new the VP of Operations, which included Recruitment and Training. 

The position came with amazing perks and an impressive salary increase. He had wanted to celebrate with Mickey at a nice restaurant. Like the one he was meeting John at tonight. Like the one he had lied and schemed to meet John at. Fuck. Fuck. 

He had wanted to bask in Mickey’s praise, to see the pride in those beautiful blue eyes. Ian was very proud of his promotion. He had been chosen over several older employees with much more seniority. He had wanted to discuss his ideas to improve his division with Mickey. But whenever he tried to schedule something, Mickey was too always too busy. 

Ian had asked him to clear his schedule two weeks ago. When he checked back, Mickey blew up, “You know I don’t like that shit. What, are you trying to start something? You bored, not getting enough attention, Ian? Everything not revolving around you, that your damn problem huh? Every time I tell you I gotta work, you act like I’m lying. I’m sick of it, man. I have a life just like you. You should just get the fuck used to it. Fuck”. He grabbed his jacket and slammed out of the apartment. 

That was the night Ian found out John’s name. While he was sitting on the bed wondering what the actual fuck was going on, Mickey’s phone beeped with an incoming text. He was surprised the phone was there, because Mickey always kept his phone near him these days. 

The phone wasn’t locked, so he read the text: “Hope you’re on the way. Can’t wait to see you. Bring me my ass. Got a few rounds for it”. 

Ian put the phone back and left the bedroom. He had suspected for a while that something was going on but knowing for sure was a completely different thing. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

He was fucked, totally devastated. He stumbled over to Mickey’s recliner and sat doubled over with his head between his knees. 

Mickey suddenly barged back into the apartment. Startled by the intrusion, Ian jumped straight up. He was in shock, he couldn’t seem to move, so he just stood there looking at Mickey. His Mickey? John’s Mickey? 

Mickey’s gaze quickly swept room, then he headed for the bedroom “I forgot my phone. Came back for it”. 

Ian stood there quietly regarding him. Mickey turned and looked at Ian curiously “What, I scare you or something”?  
Ian just stood there, mute. 

Mickey walked over and took Ian’s face in his hands, searching his eyes. “Ian, what’s wrong? What happened”? 

He laid the back of his hand against Ian’s forehead, checking for fever, then he ran his hands briskly along his arms. “Ian, talk to me. You’re pale as a fucking ghost. Tell me what’s wrong, baby, please. Can you talk? You need a doctor? What’s wrong? Talk to me, Ian”. 

Not getting a response, he gently sat Ian in the chair and hurried to the kitchen for water. 

He opened the water and kneeled in front of him “Drink this Ian. It’ll help”. 

Ian drank it all in one go, crushing the empty bottle in his hand. He slowly came back to himself, but he kept staring at Mickey. 

He knew it was Mickey, but this was a different Mickey. He couldn’t figure this Mickey out. This Mickey’s ‘ass’ belonged to John? John was waiting somewhere waiting for ‘his ass’ to get there so he could fuck it. 

How could that be? How the fuck could that be? He could see that Mickey was freaking out. He didn’t want that, so he tried hard to compose himself. “I’m good. Don’t worry, it’s nothing”. 

He slowly got up and stumbled to the bathroom, before closing the door he said “You came back for your phone. Get it, I’m good. Gonna go to bed. Kinda tired”. 

He washed his face, brushed his teeth, and took his pills. He made sure he didn’t forget anything. He didn’t want any problems. He absolutely refused to relapse. 

He couldn’t remember how long he had been in the bathroom, but he hoped that Mickey was gone. He couldn’t take any more tonight, he just couldn’t. Tomorrow he would plan, but he needed to rest now. He didn’t want Mickey to see him fall apart.

While Ian was in the bathroom, Mickey sat on the bed and texted John: “Can’t make it. Sorry. Talk soon”. 

He got an immediate response “Something wrong”? 

He rolled his eyes, sometimes this guy got on his last nerve, always trying to make it more than it was. 

He wasn’t even willing to call it a relationship. It was just some shit he was doing right now, just because he could, he supposed. He didn’t really why he was doing it, but he did know that he loved Ian, always would. He wanted Ian forever, nobody could ever replace him. 

He often wondered how this shit had happened. How it had gotten this far. He had fucked up bad and he knew it, but he wasn’t ready to stop seeing John. 

There was something about the dude that had him going back for more. They had fun together. The guy fucking worshiped him, his eyes lit up whenever he saw Mickey. He dropped everything when Mickey showed up. Every fucking thing. Nothing mattered to him but Mickey.

The sex was good, but it wasn’t earth shattering, nothing like sex with Ian. Not even close.  
He would find himself longing for Ian while he and John were fucking. Sometimes they would be laughing and talking, and Mickey would catch himself thinking  
about Ian, missing him. This shit was fucking confusing, he had created a damn hot mess. 

He was pretty sure that Ian didn’t know what he was doing, he would say something, he wouldn’t be able to help himself. 

But he knew that the distance he had put between them was hurting Ian. He was hurting the man that he promised to always take care of. He just didn’t know how to stop. Didn’t wanna stop. Wasn’t gonna stop. Not yet.

When he heard Ian come out of the bathroom, he put his phone in his nightstand drawer. He wanted to turn it off in case John texted again, but work might need him. He closed the drawer and went to find Ian. 

He was turning the lights off when Mickey came out of the bedroom. “Thought you had gone back out”. 

He walked past Mickey on his way to the bedroom, eyes on the floor, taking his shirt off as he went. 

Mickey followed him, “Nah man, decided to stay in. That a'right with you?” 

Ian stood with his back to him “Yeah, it’s fine. Whatever”.  
He got in bed and turned his back “Goodnight Mickey”. 

“Goodnight, Ian. I love you”. 

Ian mumbled something, Mickey wasn’t sure what. He took his clothes off, got into bed, and turned his light off. He wrapped his arms around him, getting as close as he could. Ian didn’t move, but Mickey knew he was still awake, he could tell by his breathing. 

He felt like the piece of shit Terry had told him he was every day of his fucking life. 

“Ian, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

Ian swallowed noisily “For what”? 

“For talking to you like that and storming out without telling you where I was going. Did I do something else”? 

“Apology accepted. I would forgive you for anything, Mick”. 

He lay there wondering why Ian had said that. What the fuck did he mean? Did he know? Was he trying to tell Mickey that he knew? 

Nah, if Ian knew he would pitch a bitch. But he knew something was off with him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

When he was sure Ian was asleep, he went into the bathroom and softly closed the door. He closed the lid and sat on the toilet and counted Ian’s pills. Satisfied that the count was right, he went back to bed. 

He knew that sometimes the meds just crapped out. Ian had needed only one med adjustment since they got back together nearly three years ago. They’d had a pretty good run. Before he fell asleep, he decided to keep a closer eye on him. 

He didn’t know that Ian had been awake the entire time, and he knew exactly what Mickey had done. 

As he cried himself to sleep, he made a decision too. He would let Mickey go. He just needed to wait for the right time. He wouldn’t give Mickey any reason to worry about him, he deserved to be happy and free. 

So, here he was, sitting in the shadows waiting to confront Mickey. He wasn’t looking to hurt him, he wouldn’t make a scene, he just wanted this bullshit to end. This was his best course of action. No more fucking lies, no more half-ass excuses. 

He looked across the room and saw that their drinks had arrived. They had settled in, fucking soft looks and smiles all around. 

He finished his drink, nodded his thanks to Marco, and blushed when the bartender winked at him again. He took a deep breath and headed over to Mickey’s booth. 

Mickey must really trust this fucking guy, he’s sitting with his back to the entrance. He never does that, only with me. 

As he approached their table John was talking “Are you ever gonna to tell him about us? You think it’s too soon? I think he deserves to know Mickey. It’s only fair”.  
Mickey looked at him as he took a gulp of his drink. Here he goes with this shit. I keep telling the fool that I'm not leaving Ian. Fucking never. 

Ian stepped up to the booth “Yeah Mick, were you ever gonna to tell me man? Don't I deserve to know"? 

Mickey was still holding his glass, he looked up at Ian, utter confusion in those beautiful blue eyes. 

He looked around, frantically searching for a way out, bur Ian was purposely blocking him in. Mickey started choking and coughing, spitting his drink across the table in John’s direction. 

He dropped the glass, spilling its contents on the table, on the seat, and on himself. Ian used the linen napkin to mop it up, then sat down next to him, effectively caging him in. He vaguely wondered if John knew that Mickey was a runner. That he ran when he felt cornered. 

Mickey was staring at Ian with wide eyed confusion, he was hyperventilating, sweating, coughing and sputtering, hands flapping, entire body quaking, unable to speak, unable to think clearly. Fuck. How? No. No. He can’t be here. How is he here? Oh my god, I’m so fucked. How? Where did he come from? Fuck. Oh my god. I’m so fucking fucked. He’s gonna leave me. Shit. How? 

John was frantic, he was leaning across the table thinking that he should go over there and pull Ian out of the way, so he could get to Mickey. But he remembered seeing Ian knock that guy out cold in the club a while back and decided maybe not. 

Instead he stayed where he was and used his words to convey his urgency “Mickey are you alright? Mickey can you hear me? You gotta calm down. I’m right here Mickey, look at me. I’m here. It’s ok”. 

But Mickey’s eyes were locked on Ian. He was paler than usual, he was chewing his inner cheek raw, blood was on his lips. He was trying to speak, but nothing came out. He can’t be here. Not supposed to be here. At home. So fucked. What? I don’t believe this shit. Can’t be happening like this. Fuck no. Not like this. Fuck is happening? He knows? How? When? The fuck?

He shook his head violently, hoping Ian wasn’t really there, praying it was all a delusion. He would get up and go the fuck home and Ian would be there. At home, not fucking here. Sitting next to him. Please make this go away. I’ll never see this asshole again. Don’t want his ass. Make it go away so I don’t lose Ian. Gonna lose Ian over this shit. Help me, please help me. Oh my god. Please, not this. Not like this. My ass is out. Please. Can't be fucking happening. So sorry.

Ian was patting his back and rubbing his arms, murmuring softly as he smoothed his hair back from his sweaty forehead “Mick, baby, you gotta calm down. It’s ok. You’re gonna make yourself sick. Come on now, breathe with me baby. Come on now. I got you Mick”. 

The waitress rushed over with water and a pile of paper napkins. Mickey eyes remained fixed on Ian as he tried hard to match his breathing to Ian’s. 

John grabbed the water and leaned over the table, “Mickey you should drink some water. Here, drink this. It’ll help. I’m right here for you. Look at me Mickey. I’m over here. Right here Mickey”. 

Mickey never looked at him, his eyes stayed locked on Ian. Ian wiped his sweaty face with the napkins, wiped the blood off his lip, then kissed his forehead. 

He was furiously chewing his bottom lip now, finally able to speak “What are you doing here Ian? How did you know? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you Ian. Please let’s go home. Let’s go home and talk. I gotta talk to you baby. Gotta let me talk to you, explain. I can explain. So fucking sorry. Don’t want him. Just you. Please, gotta believe me Ian”. 

Ian shushed him, and gently pecked his lips over and over, smiling as he kissed both cheeks. He placed his hand on Mickey’s knee to stop the shaking. 

Mickey was nearly incoherent, he was crying as he gripped Ian’s other hand that was resting on the table, “Ian? Please don’t. I’m sorry. Ian? Baby I don’t know why. Ian? Home? Please go home Ian? know……. I need you. Ian. fucked up bad, make it up to you. Ok? Please Ian. Talk to you”. 

Mickey's head was spinning, he didn’t know what the fuck to do. How the fuck did this shit happen? Ian was whispering in his ear, kissing his head, and rubbing his back, trying to calm him. He’s acting like he didn’t just catch me with that asshole. Why is he so fucking calm? He isn’t mad? What the fuck is going on?  
He didn’t understand any of this. Ian just walked up on me with John, and he’s calm, not upset, not mad? What the actual fuck? Why isn’t he kicking my ass? Why isn’t he stomping the ever-loving shit outta John's dumb ass? The stupid motherfucker won’t shut the fuck up, and Ian’s just letting the asshole run his fucking mouth? No fucking way. 

Something is way fucking wrong. Real fucking wrong. Fuck, I can’t figure this shit out. I can’t fucking think. My head is too fucking jumbled. I need to get Ian outta here. We need to leave and then I can figure this shit out. Why won’t John shut the fuck up? The fuck is he talking about? Why won’t Ian hit him in his fucking mouth? Don’t make sense. He’s too fucking calm. 

John could only sit there and watch them. They wouldn’t even look at him. As a matter of fact, Ian hadn’t spared him a glance since he walked his ass over here. Like he wasn’t even sitting there. The arrogant asshole.  
Still, he was transfixed by the scene in front of him, he had never witnessed anything so intimate. It was like they were the only two people in the whole fucking place. He felt like an intruder, a voyeur or some shit. 

He had never been allowed to call Mickey ‘baby’, shit, he couldn’t even call him ‘Mick’. He had tried once and was told sharply, in no uncertain terms “My name is Mickey, man”.  
He never tried again. Apparently, those were names reserved for fucking Ian. Hell, he didn’t even know that Mickey could cry. But Ian knew, and he knew just how to calm him down. And he couldn’t even get Mickey to look at him. 

But he would give Mickey the benefit of the doubt, he had been caught off guard. That’s all this is. Now that Ian knew that he was with someone else, he would leave. Pack his shit and move the fuck on. They would be free to build a life together, finally free from Ian Gallagher. 

Mickey had already proved that he wanted to be with him. He could’ve broken it off before Ian even found out, but he didn’t. Yeah, he was just in shock. He just felt bad that Ian found out this way, perfectly understandable, they’ve been together for a while, fucked around when they were kids. But Mickey was his now, he belonged to him. When Mickey calmed down everything would be fine. This was a good thing. Get it all out there. Yeah, everything will be fine.

Mickey kept asking Ian if they could go home “Please Ian. Baby let’s go home and talk. Please take me home. I’m all fucked up. Let’s go. Please you gotta take me home Ian. Fuck. I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t give me a chance to make this right. Please Ian. You know I love you. I know I did wrong. Made a bad fucking mistake. I don’t want him Ian. I love you. Don’t want him”. 

He suddenly grabbed his hair with both hands and pulled violently, shouting, spittle flying “WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE? HOW THE FUCK IS THIS HAPPENING? FUCK. FUCK. NO. NOT LIKE THIS”.

Ian pried his hands loose “Mick stop. Stop it now. Get a fucking grip. I’m gonna get you outta here ok”? 

Mickey furiously rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and nodded his head. Ian pulled his hands away from his eyes, kissed them, and held them. “It’s ok Mickey. I got you. You need to calm down so we can leave. Can you do that for me”?

He nodded again “We gonna go home now? So sorry. I love you Ian. So damn sorry. Don’t know what go into me. I don’t want him Ian. Please, gotta believe me. Do you believe me Ian? Please tell me you believe me. Gotta believe me”. 

Ian was confused. What the fuck is going on here? What's he talking about? He doesn't want the guy? The fuck is he doing here with him then? Why is he fucking him?  
Ian smiled and kissed him again “I love you Mick. Always have, always will”. 

He stood up and said softly “Come on, let’s get you home. You ok to drive? Think you can make it?” 

John was indignant, he was tired of Ian ignoring him. The prick. He snapped “He’ll be ok. He’s here with me. I’ll drive him”. 

Mickey grabbed his jacket, keys, and stuffed his phone in his pocket, eyes never leaving Ian, “I’m ready, Ian. I can drive, I’ll be careful. Let’s go. Please let’s just go home. I need to talk to you baby. Fuck”. 

He didn't understand why Ian was so calm. Something is fucking wrong. Can’t figure this shit out. Can’t fucking think. Why won’t that dumb ass motherfucker shut the fuck up? Why won’t Ian hit him in his fucking mouth. Something’s not right. This is all wrong. Don’t understand what the fuck is going on.

He stomped his feet, grabbed his hair again, pulling violently, wild eyes darting back and forth, nose flaring, spittle flying, “FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. WOULD YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP? SHUT THE FUCK UP. WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE? I DON’T WANT THIS MOTHERFUCKER. I SWEAR I DON’T WANT HIM. SHIT. HOW THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT HAPPENING LIKE THIS. SO FUCKED. I FUCKING FUCKED UP. IAN I FUCKED UP SO DAMN BAD. SO FUCKING SORRY”.

John looked on in horror. Why is he saying those things? He can’t mean that. No. No fucking way. 

Ian was getting seriously worried as he pried Mickey’s hands away again, kissed them, and held onto them “Mick stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself. Now stop it. I need you to get a fucking grip so we can get outta here ok baby? You gotta get a grip. Want some coffee before we go? Settle down a bit”? 

He shook his head violently. He just wanted to get the fuck outta here. The fuck away from that motherfucker over there. He couldn’t stand the fucking sight of him.  
“Don’t want no coffee Ian. We can get some at home. Together. Me and you when we get home. I’m better now. Let’s just go home. Please let’s go home. Wanna go home now”.

Ian ran his hand through Mickey’s hair, kissed his forehead and stood up. 

Mickey stumbled over his own feet trying to get out of the booth. Ian righted him “Careful. Gonna break your damn neck Mick”. 

Ian picked up his keys and walked away with Mickey hot on his heels. He had a death grip on the back of Ian’s jacket, never once did he even glance back at John. 

He saw the bartender smile and wink at Ian. He shot the guy a glare and held on tighter to Ian’s jacket. 

It was raining hard outside when they reached the entrance. Mickey said “I’m across the street. I’ll take you to your car. Where did you park”? 

Ian smiled softly “I’m close. You go on home. Be careful. See you soon”. 

Mickey kissed him “See you soon. Please be careful. I love you, you know that, right”? 

“Yeah, Mick I know,” he whispered. 

He walked out the door and ran to his truck. He drove in the direction of his new home, and he didn’t have very far to go at all.

Mickey sat in his truck with his head resting on the steering wheel. He needed a minute. He couldn’t believe that Ian had cold busted him like that. Fucking drama queen.  
How long has he known? How did he even find out? Why didn’t he say something? And why the fuck wasn’t he mad? He didn’t even make a fucking scene. He has hit guys for just talking to me. Always been a jealous motherfucker. Both of us. John has no fucking idea how lucky his ass is. But why didn’t Ian kick his ass? He didn’t even cuss him out. Didn’t even cuss me out. Nothing. Why the fuck not?

He thought about how hurt Ian must be, and a fresh wave of tears poured down his cheeks. I’m a piece of shit, scum. What on earth can I ever say to him to make this better? Will he ever trust me again? Fuck. Without him I’m nothing. He is my reason, he’s everything to me. How did I ever let this shit happen? I destroyed my happy home. For what? I don’t even fucking know. I gotta fix this, no matter what I gotta do. I can’t lose him again. Shit. 

John hurriedly paid the check and rushed to the entrance. He wanted to drive Mickey home, make sure he was safe. Mickey was his now, his to take care of, no matter what he said while he was in a state of shock. 

When he reached the door, he saw Mickey sitting in his truck across the street with his head down. Without a second’s hesitation, he ran out into the pouring rain shouting and frantically waving his arms to get Mickey’s attention. 

Mickey started his truck and took off without even noticing him. Never even looked his way. Ian had rendered him invisible. He stood there in the middle of the street soaking wet from the rain, car horns blaring at him, and splashing mud all over his nicest outfit. He had wanted to look good for Mickey. Had expected that Mickey would eagerly undress him tonight. 

Mickey was trying to open the door to his apartment, but his hands were shaking so badly he kept dropping his keys. Shit. Shit. 

When he finally got inside, he didn’t turn any lights on. He just wanted to sit quietly and wait for Ian to get home. He’ll turn the lights on when he gets here. 

The pounding in his head was relentless, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his clothes were soaking wet. He didn’t care. He sat on the couch and rested his head against the back. He was such an asshole. Terry always told him that he would never amount to anything. That he was fucked for life. He was right. 

Ian had been the first person ever to believe in him. He had shown him a better way, had fought for him. He had been the first person to make him feel like he was worth something. That he deserved something better than his south side roots, something better than living a lie to pacify his maniacal, homophobic, prick of a father. It had been Ian that held a shotgun on Mickey’s low-life brothers while he beat the hell out of Terry with a baseball bat. 

Well, why had he done this utterly deceitful thing then? Why had he ruined his life? Why had he hurt Ian like this? Why had he set out to destroy his life, all his achievements? Why had he gone out of his way to set a fucking match to everything he worked so hard for? Without Ian, none of it mattered. None of it mattered at all. 

A while later, Mickey jerked awake in a panic. His head was still pounding, his heart was beating too fast, his eyes were burning, his stomach was rolling. What time is it? He didn’t mean to go to sleep. He was supposed to be waiting for Ian. Where the fuck is he? Did he come in and go right to bed? How long had he been sleep? He decided to clean up a bit, then go check on Ian. 

He could see that the bedroom door was closed. Yeah, Ian hadn’t wanted to wake him. They could talk tomorrow when they were both rested. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation they would have, but he knew that it had to happen. He would be ready. He got up and stumbled to the bathroom. 

He turned the light on and stared at his reflection. He was still in his wet leather jacket and soaked clothes. He looked like hell. His face had a sickly pallor, his eyes were nearly swollen shut, his nose was red, dried snot was smeared all over his face, and his hair was sticking up all over his head.  
You are a fucking mess, you don’t deserve him, never did. 

He washed his face, then decided he was thirsty and needed water. Then he would check on Ian.  
He turned the hall light on so he could to hang his jacket up, he remembered his shirt and pants were wet, he took them off too, ignoring his wet boxers. He needed to be quiet because Ian was sleeping, and he never liked to disturb him when he was resting. 

He vowed to take better care of Ian starting right damn now. Nothing would come before him ever again. He had learned a hard lesson. But why did he even fuck John in the first damn place? He had to know that the shit would end badly. 

He didn’t see Ian’s jacket on the coat hook. Where is his jacket? He was sure that Ian had on his black leather jacket. He had given it to him for his birthday last year. Maybe he took it off in the bedroom. Yeah, it was in the bedroom. 

He went to the kitchen to get his water. As he drained the bottle, he was aware of a sinking feeling in his gut, and the pounding in his head was getting worse. Shit. He took out another bottle of water and went back to the bathroom, he needed pain pills. 

He opened the medicine cabinet and paused before reaching for the pain pills. He stood there staring at the shelf, something was missing. Ian’s pills aren’t here. Where the fuck are they? Why would he move them? Did he flush them? Oh, fuck. What have I done? Is he having a fucking episode? 

He told himself to calm down. Ian was calm tonight, he’s fine. I’ll go check on him right now. 

When he walked past the table they kept their keys on he stopped abruptly. Ian’s key ring wasn’t there. The ugly key ring that he bought him wasn’t there. A single key lay there instead. What the fuck? This is Ian’s key. Did he lose his key ring? Yeah, that’s gotta to be it. He’s always losing shit. 

That feeling in his gut was getting worse, his hands were shaking, his nose was running and sweat was running down his face, stinging his eyes. 

As soon as he entered the dark bedroom, he knew that Ian wasn’t there. He could feel it. He stopped breathing for a second. Ian isn’t here. 

He turned the light on with trembling hands. The bed hadn’t been slept in. He clutched his chest and doubled over, spewing vomit all over his feet and the carpet. His stomach rumbled and he had to hustle to the bathroom on shaky legs, using the wall for support. He made it to the toilet just before his bowels emptied. 

When he finished, and tried to get up, he was so weak he couldn’t stand on his own, he collapsed on the bathroom floor. The cold tile felt good to his overwrought, feverish body. He lay there sobbing until he felt strong enough to get up. 

Using the wall for support, he slowly made his way back to the bedroom. His heart was beating violently, his entire body was shaking again and drenched in sweat, and his headache was driving him out of his mind. 

Am I having a fucking heart attack? I need Ian, he would know. Where the fuck is he? Where the fuck is he? Maybe I should check the hospitals. Yeah. He’s probably wondering why I’m not there with him. Might think I’m with John’s dumb ass. Fuck. Fuck. I know he needs me.  
He wouldn’t be going through this shit if I wasn’t such a fucking fuck up. I’m a dirty, rotten piece of shit. 

Where is my damn phone? Did I leave it in the fucking truck? Gotta go out there and check. I can’t remember shit. He’s fucking gone. 

Something told him to check the closet. “Nooo, Nooo. No,” he sobbed as he stumbled over and jerked the closet door open. 

He screamed “IAN, IAN, IAN. OH MY god. HE"S GONE. HE FUCKING LEFT ME". 

He stumbled out of the bedroom holding onto the wall for support. He filled a pail with hot water, and disinfectant to clean up the mess in the bedroom, sobbing the entire time.  
When the carpet was cleaned, he put everything away and looked down at the vomit on his feet. Shit. He cleaned his feet and went to sit on the sofa, too damn tired to check if he had tracked vomit anywhere. He’d take care of it tomorrow. 

His gaze fell on his recliner and he thought of the nights they fucked in it, it was their favorite piece of furniture. They would fuck each other into oblivion in that chair. It can’t be over. They can’t be over. They can’t be. He made a mistake, he would make Ian understand. Somehow. Whatever he had to do. Oh my god. I’m so fucked. He left me. The fuck have I done? I don’t even want John.

His phone was on the coffee table. He picked it up, but he wouldn’t be calling any hospitals. Ian wouldn’t be at any of them. Ian had left him. Packed his shit and fucking left. How long had he been planning this? He just sat back and let me hang my damn self. How many nights did he spend crying, knowing that I was out with another man? Fuck me. Fuck me.

He had notifications, maybe Ian had left a message telling him where he was. He had texts, missed calls, and voicemails. They were all from fucking John. Nothing from Ian. Jesus. Ian had left him. Ian was done with him. 

He deleted everything and sat back, glad that the pounding in his head was finally easing up. What am I gonna do? What have I done? Where is he? Probably went to his siblings. But this is his home. I should be the one leaving, not him. 

Maybe he’s with Mandy. I’ll call around tomorrow, too late now. Give him time to calm down. 

How long has he known I was fucking around on him? How did I not suspect that he knew, with my slick ass? God how hurt he must have been for who knows how long. I am Terry’s son. Just like him, not worth a damn. A fresh wave of tears started. 

His phone beeped, startling him but he knew it wasn’t Ian before he even looked at it. 

It was John “Mickey I’m worried. You need me now. I can help. I’ve been sitting outside. I saw the lights come on. Is he gone yet? Or are you leaving? I’ll take you home with me. It’s our home now. I love you. We can be together now. Talk to me, please”. 

Mickey groaned and deleted the text. Why would this motherfucker think I wanna to talk to him? Wasn’t he sitting there when Ian’s ass walked up? Fuck. Is he fucking dense? I never want to see his fucking face again. 

He went to the fridge for a beer, stood there and chugged half of it. He turned all the lights off and sat back down. 

He couldn’t blame John for this shit storm. This was all him, blowing up his own damn life. He just used John to do it. He had known that the guy was falling for him and he had let him. He should have ended the shit. Hell, he shouldn’t have started back up with him. 

He wasn’t serious about him when they were together before he and Ian got back together. He was still in love with Ian then, and he wasn’t looking to replace him now. Hell, if Ian didn’t forgive him and come back, he’d just be alone. He didn’t want John. Ian was the only man that he wanted to sleep next to, wake up with every morning for the rest of his life. That wasn’t likely to change in this life. 

His phone went off again. This guy is really getting on my fucking nerves. Without even reading the message, he typed “Man go home. Leave me alone. Just leave me the fuck alone”. 

John sighed and rubbed his tired eyes as he read the text from Mickey. He didn’t know what was going on in there.  
He had been sitting out here in the rain, in his soaked clothes for over two hours waiting for Ian to leave so he could go to Mickey. They could stay here or go to his house, whatever Mickey wanted. But he wouldn’t even talk to him, told him to go home. Shit, he just wanted to be there for him, show his love and commitment to their relationship. 

Where the fuck is Ian? He couldn’t figure that fucking guy out. He walks up on us calm as could be, then takes charge of the fucking chaos he caused, and completely ignores me. Like I wasn’t even sitting there. 

How the fuck could he comfort Mickey after catching him with me? Who does that shit? He knew that Mickey was cheating on him. He saw the fucking proof. That’s why he was there, he knew Mickey would be there with another guy. Whatever game he’s playing wouldn’t work this time. The fucker had taken Mickey away from him once by messing with his head, but not this time. Not this fucking time. 

He shook his head and sneezed three times in rapid succession. He started his car, looked up at Mickey’s window once more, and drove away. He’d let Mickey rest tonight and call him in the morning. They would get breakfast, Mickey would be hungry. They never even ordered dinner, thanks to Ian Gallagher. This night did not go like he planned. 

Ian couldn’t sleep. He got up and went to the kitchen for a beer but decided that water would be better for him. He didn’t want to be groggy at work. He had to be especially careful.  
His mind went to Mickey. He thought about how fucked up he had been. He hoped that he made it home safe. He’d had to stop himself from calling to check in with him, make sure he got home safe. He would be fine, he had John to take care of him now. 

He wondered how John had felt watching Mickey beg him for forgiveness, insist that he loved him, not John. How he felt watching Mickey walk out with him, leaving John sitting there alone like a fucking chump. 

Ian took no pleasure in any of it. He had lost, Mickey wanted John, had chosen John over him. 

Mickey had just been shocked that he walked up on him like that. By now Mickey knew that he was gone, he could deal with his guilt and move on with John. 

He would find a way to move on too. He had to. In a few hours he would go into work, start reorganizing his division, and show his bosses why their decision to promote him was the right decision. He could do this. He had to do this. He had to, his sanity depended on it.

It was daylight when Mickey woke up again. He fell asleep sitting up, now he had a crick in his fucking neck and his joints were stiff, along with his other damn problems. 

He rubbed his bleary eyes with the heels of his hands and blew his nose with the tissues they kept on the coffee table. 

He needed coffee before he started calling around looking for Ian. 

He emptied his bladder, washed his hands and went to the kitchen, inspecting the floor for dried vomit as he walked. Pleased as fuck when he didn’t find any, he really didn’t feel like cleaning shit right now. 

He stood looking out the window while the coffee brewed. He poured a cup, wondering if Ian was up. He realized that he didn’t know what shift he was working this week. He used to have his shifts memorized. 

He looked at the calendar, there was nothing. When did Ian stop writing his shifts down? When the fuck did I stop noticing? The enormity of his situation hit him with a renewed vengeance. He had fucked up so bad. So fucking bad. 

He took his coffee back to the couch and picked up his phone. He didn’t expect Ian to contact him, he had made his position perfectly clear. He was out. He was fucking gone. Did he even want Mickey anymore? Did he want Mickey to try to get him back? 

He remembered Ian telling him recently that he would forgive him for anything. Did he know then that Mickey was cheating? Fuck.  
I gotta try to get him back. Try harder than I ever tried at anything in my miserable fucking life. How the fuck did I let this shit happen

He called Fiona first. “No Mickey, Ian’s not here. Why would he be? You two fighting or something”?  
He wasn’t about to get into it with her. “Will you have him call me if you hear from him”?  
“Sure Mickey. Is everything alright”?  
“Yeah, fine. Bye Fiona”. 

Lip next. Fuck. He sipped his coffee while he waited for him to pick up. The call went to voicemail. He left a message asking him to have Ian call him and disconnected. 

He would need another cup of coffee to deal with Mandy’s ass. 

When he was sipping his second cup he scrolled to her contact, pushed the button and waited. 

When she answered he asked if she’d seen Ian “No. Should I have? Is he supposed to be here? What’s wrong”?  
“He’s fine, just tell him to call me if you hear from him. Just do that for me. I gotta talk to him. That’s all”.  
“What the fuck did you do to him Mickey? I knew you’d fuck up”. 

He disconnected the call. He couldn’t deal with her telling him he was a fucking fuck up. He already knew that he was. Had always known. Terry made sure he knew.  
When Mandy called back, he didn’t answer. She would either tell him or she wouldn’t. 

He decided to try Ian’s phone, not really expecting him to take his call, and he didn’t. 

He left a voicemail “Ian please call me, man. We need to talk. You can’t just walk out on me. I love you. I’m so sorry. I was so wrong. You gotta believe me, you’re who I want. Just meet me and let me talk to you. I know you still love me. I know it”. 

He sat back and closed his eyes, trying to understand why he had done this to them. He didn’t know why. Why he had knowingly hurt two people. John meant nothing to him, and it would be a fucking travesty if he lost Ian over him. 

Yeah, he was hurting John too, but he wasn’t innocent in this shit. The guy knew that he was with Ian. He knew that Mickey had broken it off with him their first time around because Ian came back into picture. 

He had never even hinted that he would leave Ian, not even a little bit. When John started begging him to stay overnight, wanting to cook dinner and shit, trying to schedule dates in advance, he should’ve ended it then.  
He knew the guy had never gotten over him. He also knew that he would never give him what he wanted. Wasn’t gonna happen. Not ever. One of the many things Mickey couldn’t figure out is why he didn’t end the shit before Ian found out. Fuck my fucking life.

He called his office to let them know he would be in later in the day. Satisfied that everything was running smoothly there, he called Ian’s station and was shocked speechless for the second time in less than 24 hours. 

He found out about Ian’s promotion from the fucking dispatch operator. She didn’t understand why he didn’t know and refused to talk about it with him. She did give him Ian’s office number because it was public information. 

He sat back and closed his irritated, tired eyes, recalling all the times Ian had tried to get him to schedule a special night out. He remembered how he had brushed him off, the condescending way he had talked to him. 

He remembered the night he stormed out, thinking Ian had given him the perfect excuse to be with John. He didn’t have to think of one, he could storm out in anger. 

But he forgot his phone that night. He remembered the state he found Ian in when he came back to get it. His phone was in the bedroom where he left it. He had a text from John. 

Had Ian seen the text? Is that when he found out? It made sense. 

He had blamed Ian’s peculiar state on a bipolar episode, when Ian had probably just found out that his piece of shit partner was cheating on him. He had found out that some other guy was waiting for his man. Waiting to fuck his man. He had known exactly why his man had instigated an argument and stormed out. 

He was no better than Ian’s family, blaming his behavior on his disease. He had sunk to a new low. He ran to bathroom, vomiting up his coffee, he stood there dry heaving when nothing else came up. 

He brushed his teeth and looked at his refection. He was ashamed of himself, he hated himself. How could he even hope to get him back? But he had to try, he had never been one to give up in a fight. And this was the fight of his shitty life.

He got a beer and sat down to call Ian’s new office. How long had Ian been there? He sipped his beer while he waited for someone to pick up.  
Would Ian answer himself? Did he have a secretary, a receptionist? He didn’t know shit, he was totally out of the loop, and it was his own fucking fault. All of it. 

The phone stopped ringing “Ian Gallagher’s office. This is Charles, how can I help you”?  
He took a deep breath “Hello Charles. Let me speak to Ian please”.  
“Who’s calling?”  
“Just tell him Mickey”.  
“Well Mickey, Ian is not available. I can take a message”.  
“Is he there”?  
Charles waited a beat “Do you want to leave a message Mickey”?  
“Yes, ask him to call me, please”.  
“Your number?”  
“He has it”.  
“I’ll give him the message”.  
“Thanks,” he disconnected the call and sat there staring at his phone. 

He didn’t like that motherfucker already and had never even met him. He sounded too proprietary and Mickey didn’t like it one bit. But he couldn’t afford to piss him off right out the gate, though. He wanted to meet him first. 

He didn’t know if Ian was just unavailable to him, or really unavailable. 

He sat there chewing his bottom lip and thinking. He decided that he would take Ian some flowers. He loved it when Mickey surprised him with flowers. But first he needed some breakfast and a shower.

He was sitting down to eat when his phone beeped. Hoping against hope, he rushed to get it. John again. This fucker wasn’t letting up.He wasn’t ready to him talk yet, so he ignored the call. 

Then he got a text “Hey Mickey, thought we could get some breakfast, talk about things. I’m outside thought I’d take a chance. Hit me back, worried about you. Love you Mickey”.  
What’s with this stalker motherfucker. What if Ian was here and he’s sitting his dumb ass outside waiting for me? Shit. 

He shot off a quick text “Look man, told you to go home. Leave me alone. Contact you when I’m ready to talk to you”. 

He finished his breakfast and went to take a shower. He had to go to the flower shop.

John read Mickey’s text three times, more dread settling in his stomach each time. He couldn’t be wrong about Mickey.  
Mickey hadn’t broken it off with him. He had chosen him, he just needed more time to deal with the shit Ian had started last night. Anyone would need time to think. But he couldn’t figure out what was taking so damn long.  
Surely, they had talked it out by now. What was there to say really? Ian caught Mickey with another man. Nothing more to it. He decided that he would just have to wait for Mickey to contact him, but he wasn’t giving up. What they have together is real, and they are going to have a life together.  
He drove off wondering how long he’d have to wait for Mickey to contact him. No matter, he would be ready and waiting. Just like last time. He would always wait for Mickey.

Ian sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He had gotten Mickey’s messages from Fiona, Lip, Mandy, and now Charles. 

He even listened to Mickey’s voicemail, he sounded like he was totally wrecked. He wasn’t going to answer any of the messages. He just wasn’t strong enough to deal with Mickey right now. He already knew that Mickey was sorry for hurting him, he just wanted to make sure that he was ok. Well, he wasn’t fucking ok, but that wasn’t Mickey’s business anymore.  
He had dealt with his family and that was enough for today. He assured them all that he was fine. Told them that he and Mickey just had a communication mix up this morning. He’s pretty sure they didn’t believe him, but he refused to elaborate. 

Let Mickey explain the break up in whatever terms he chose. He just didn’t care. All he knew was that Mickey loved someone else. He lowered his head and tried to concentrate on the folder of documents on his desk.

Mickey got off the elevator on the 10th floor with a dozen red roses. He opened the door that had Ian’s name on it. Shit. He was proud of him. This was a fucking big deal. He remembered Ian trying to talk to him about the proposal he was writing. He kicked himself for not paying attention. Shit. Shit. He sighed and walked up to the desk.  
Charles looked at the flowers curiously, then at Mickey “May I help you sir”? 

“Mickey to see Ian”. When Mickey said his name, he noticed a peculiar look flash in the guy’s eyes. 

Charles smiled politely “Have a seat. I’ll see if he’s available”. 

Mickey sat down to wait while Charles disappeared into the office behind his desk. 

Mickey had already sized him up. He looked to be late 30’s early 40’s, about Ian’s height, slim build, he wore his wavy black hair long in the back, graying at the temple, high cheekbones, pointed nose, small wire framed glasses. A pretty boy. He was dressed in dark slacks, white shirt, sleeves rolled up. Ready to do battle for Ian. What else did he want to do for him? 

He was used to guys trying to get with Ian. He could spot them a mile away. Had plenty of practice. He had no doubt that Charles was another one. Well he could slow his fucking role, that shit ain’t happening. He would see to that. For sure. Bet, motherfucker.  
Ian looked up from his folder when Charles knocked, and told him to come in. 

“Mickey’s here to see you. He has flowers”. 

Ian looked surprised but recovered quickly “Tell him I’m unavailable. Will you put the flowers in water please”? 

“Shall I bring them in here”? 

He did not need a reminder of Mickey sitting on his desk “No, you enjoy them”. 

“No problem. I’ll take care of it” 

He noticed the sadness on Ian’s face when he heard Mickey’s name. This guy had hurt him bad. That angered Charles, he really liked his new boss, admired him even. He would do all he could to protect him from this ‘Mickey’. 

Mickey was standing at his desk when Charles closed the door to Ian’s office.  
“Ian’s unavailable. I’ll put the flowers in water if you want”? 

Mickey handed him the flowers “Thanks, tell him I’ll be back”. 

He turned around and walked out. Defeated for now. This ain’t over Ian. Not giving up on us. 

When Mickey closed the door, Charles read the card, “Congrats Ian, Sorry I’m late, baby. I love you”. He put the card in his desk drawer in case Ian asked for it. He sincerely hoped he didn’t. 

Mickey got in his truck and drove home. He made a sandwich, grabbed a beer and sat down to eat. He checked his phone to find 5 texts from Mandy demanding to know what was going on. Ian must not have told her yet. Strange. He used to tell her everything. 

In the last text she threatened to come over if Mickey didn’t call her. He shot her a text “Not gonna talk about it”. 

She can come over if she wants. Don’t mean I’m gonna open the damn door. I’m a grown ass man. Fuck her. He checked in at work, satisfied that all was well, he ate his sandwich, drank his beer, and took a nap.

He woke up to the sound of Mandy banging on the door and screaming his name. He went to the door and told her to go away. 

“Open the fucking door Mickey. Ian won’t talk to me, but you’re gonna. I know you did something to him. Now open the damn door”.

“I told you I wasn’t gonna talk about it. I meant that. I don’t want to see you. Go home or stay out there until someone calls the cops. Your fucking choice”. 

He left the door and went the fridge for a beer, sat down and turned the TV on. She tried calling his phone, and he promptly declined her call and sipped his beer. After a few more loud knocks, there was silence. She had pissed him the fuck off. Who does she think she is? Gonna make me open my damn door. Fuck that. She don’t run me. 

There was only one person other than Ian, that he wanted to talk to, and she was touring the fucking world or some shit.

Ian was unlocking his door when Mandy texted him “Mickey wouldn’t let me in. You home yet? What’s going on over there”? 

He put his things down and took his shoes off. He told her this morning that he wasn’t gonna talk about it. Let Mickey explain it to them. To all of them. He knows what the fuck happened. I certainly don’t.  
He texted her “Not home. Love you”. 

He had his evening all planned out. Dinner He had his evening all planned out. Dinner, shower, catch up on the novel he was reading, pills, sleep. Tomorrow evening he would work out in the gym downstairs. He had to stay on point, no slip ups. 

He wondered what Mickey was doing. He really missed him, really needed him. Was he with John? Were they making plans over dinner? Fucking? 

The fact that Mickey brought him flowers just meant that he was finally acknowledging his promotion. Now that he had slowed down enough to fucking notice. It meant nothing more than that.

He was standing in the kitchen trying to decide what he wanted for dinner. Something simple for sure. Thanks to Charles, he had some good options. He was taking the ingredients for a salad out of the fridge when Mickey called. He took out a beer and let it go to voicemail. 

He sipped his beer while he sat at the table and listened to his message “Ian, where are you? I need to talk to you. Please call me. No one will tell me where you are. I’m not doing so good, man. I’m sorry. John doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t know why I did that shit. Please Ian. Hope you liked the flowers, proud of you man”. 

Mickey was sitting in his recliner with his head in his hands. He had just left Ian a voicemail. Would he delete it without listening? He hoped not. Ian needed to talk to him. How could he just throw it all away without at least talking? Ian loved talking shit out, he said it was healthy for a relationship. Maybe he just needed more time. I’ll just have to keep trying. I'm so fucked.

He had a sudden thought.  
He sent Ian a text “I know you’re upset baby. I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. I don’t want John. I’ll never give up on us. I’m going to show up at your office everyday with flowers until you see me. I don’t know where you’re staying so your office will have to do. I love you. So much and I’m so sorry Ian”. 

Mickey was eating pizza when his phone beeped. He grabbed his phone, hoping against hope that it was Ian. Of course, it wasn’t. It was John. Again. 

“Mickey, I know you need time. Just want you to know I’m thinking about you. Miss you bad. I’ll be waiting. Hope you’re taking care of yourself”. 

No wonder the guy isn’t in a damn relationship. Clingy asshole. But he had known that about him already. He knew that from before, but he got involved with him again anyway. He would have to handle this shit soon. He didn’t even consider replying as he deleted the text. 

His fucking appetite was gone. He got another beer and settled in to watch TV. He missed Ian, missed him so much. What is he doing? Eating dinner? Working late? Where the fuck is he? 

Ian smiled as he read Mickey’s latest text. Would he really bring flowers every day? Yeah, he would.  
Then he got mad. Why the fuck is he acting so damn frantic? He wanted to be with John. He made plans to be with him every fucking chance he got. Lied to me so he could be with him. Fucked him on the regular. Ignored and ridiculed me to be with him. Now he’s gonna press me? Fuck him. Fuck’s wrong with his cheating ass?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here and Now is the sequel to this story.


	2. Brotherly Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian slow walks Lip down memory lane.

Fiona walked into the office like a woman on a mission. She stopped at the desk and Charles looked up at her with a polite smile “How can I help you”? 

“I’m here to see Ian. Tell him it’s Fiona”. 

He knew that she was Ian’s sister. He made it his business to find out everything he could about his boss. With his smile in place he said “Sorry. Ian is unavailable. I can take a message”. 

“Let him know that I’m out here. He’ll see me. I’m gonna sit right here and wait, you tell him that”. 

She took a seat, snatched up a magazine off the table and settled in. 

Impressive, but Charles had his orders. Ian was seeing appointments only until further notice. He went back to his files leaving Fiona to her magazine. He sent Ian an email telling him that she was sitting out there refusing to leave. 

Ian answered immediately. He apologized to Charles and asked him to offer her coffee, make sure she was comfortable. But his directive stood. 

Before he could offer her coffee, she walked up to his desk. “He’s not going to see me, is he? He’s always been a stubborn little shit. I know I should’ve called first. Just tell him to call me. I’m worried about him. Thanks”. She smiled and left the office. 

He emailed Ian letting him know that she was gone. He glanced at the clock, only 11:30 and he still had to look forward to Mickey’s daily flower delivery. This would be the 3rd one in a row. Fucks sake. These fucking people. But he was learning an awful lot about Ian. That’s a good thing. A real good thing. 

Two days later, Lip walked into Ian’s new office for the first time. He was so proud of his little brother. Ian had worked hard for this promotion, and he deserved every bit of it. 

He walked up to Charles’ desk “I need to see Ian. I’m his brother, Lip”. 

He smiled “Sorry Mr. Gallagher, Ian’s unavailable. Happy to take a message”. 

Lip regarded him silently, sizing him up. He finally leaned over the desk conspiratorially “I know that you know what’s going on. We’re worried about Ian. I need to know that you’re keeping an eye on him. Keeping Mickey away from him. I’m gonna leave my number. Let me know if Mickey makes trouble, and he will, trust me”. 

After the way Ian had behaved last night, Lip knew that they needed to keep an eye on him. He could already be spiraling. 

Satisfied that he had an ally he reached for a pen, but before he could pick it up, Charles looked him in the eye “If there is nothing else Mr. Gallagher, I’ll let Ian know that you stopped by. Good day sir”. 

He clicked on the computer file he was working on, effectively dismissing Lip. 

Lip stood there for a moment wondering what had just happened. He wasn’t used to people getting the best of him. He was supposed to be the smart Gallagher, after all. Yet this minimum wage-ass receptionist had just dismissed him. Who does he think he is? His brother is this guy’s boss fucks sake. He would be sure to talk to Ian about his rude ass when things settle down. For now, he glared at Charles and stalked out. 

Charles took his glasses off, rubbed his tired eyes, and sighed loudly when Lip left. He didn’t like that arrogant asshole. It was hard to believe that he was Ian’s brother. Had he really expected him to spy on Ian? What kind of family is Ian from? They treat him like he's a silly adolescent, incapable of making decisions about his own life. 

First Fiona and now this asshole Lip. What the fuck kind of name is ‘Lip’ anyway? Asshole. 

He didn’t need anyone to tell him that Mickey was trouble for Ian. He saw it every day. He saw the sadness in those beautiful green eyes. The slump in those wide, powerful shoulders. Sure, Ian tried to hide it, but he could tell. He wanted to make it all better. He could make it all better if Ian gave him a chance. He just had to wait for the right time. 

Ian was sitting at his desk reading the email from Charles for the second time. As usual, Lip had made an ass of himself. He thought back to their conversation last night. 

He was sprawled in the middle of his bed with his novel when Lip called “Ian what the fuck is going on? Why haven’t you been taking my calls? Fiona is worried sick. We’re all worried about you. What did he do this time? Are you alright? You know you have to keep your stress level down”. 

“I’m fine Lip”, he answered sighing deeply. Of course, Lip didn’t believe him. 

“Have you checked in with Dr. Amash? You know how quickly that shit sneaks up on you sometimes. You’ve come too far, man”. 

He tried again, “Lip, I’m fine”. 

Lip was getting angry “I told you, hell we all told you that Mickey would bring you down. What did he do this time? We know you moved out. Where are you living? Why didn’t you come home to your family? You need to be with us. We know what to look for, what the signs are and shit”. 

“Lip why do you assume I can’t take care of myself? I’ve been dealing with this shit since I was 17. Probably before that, just wasn’t diagnosed till then. I learned how to manage it, been stable for years. I don’t need watching, I don’t need you or anyone else monitoring my behavior. Been there, done that”. He needed to hang up, he was getting irritated already. 

Lip was almost shouting “We love you man. Just want to keep you safe. What did Mickey do? You used to talk to me. I had to find out from Mandy that you moved out. She says that you won’t even tell her what happened. What kind of shit is that? Thought she was your best friend or some shit”. 

“This is between Mickey and me. It’s not a family affair Lip. We’ll handle it ourselves. I’m not talking to you about it. That’s final”. 

Lip snarled “I knew this would happen. He’s never deserved you Ian. Your life turns to shit whenever he’s involved. Everyone knows that except you. You’ve got too much to lose now man”. 

He was sick of Lip’s bullshit. Should’ve hung up on his ass, now this is happening “See, that right there. That’s why I won’t talk to you. You traffic in revisionist history Lip, utter bullshit.   
What makes you think that the poor, ghetto ass Gallaghers are better than the poor, ghetto ass Milkoviches, huh? We’re all from the same fucking neighborhood, we all did what we had to, just trying to survive our shitty childhoods. You know that, all of you know that. So, fuck you Lip. Maybe Maybe Fiona ought to monitor your delusional ass”. 

Ian was stalking around in his apartment by now. “And another thing, Mickey has always tried to love me. Always looked out for me, even when my ‘family’ couldn’t find the time. Remember that Lip? You’d been through it all before with Monica and when Mickey refused to let you lock me up, you checked out. You and Fiona. Mickey had never even heard of bipolar disorder, but he researched it on his fucking phone, his stolen phone I might add, and he studied the shit. He made sure I had my medications, and not that generic shit, he got the brand pills for me. You know how he did that Lip? He stole shit, sold drugs, ran guns and he ran scams, that’s how. He risked getting arrested for my ungrateful ass. He bathed me when I pissed and shit myself because I couldn’t make it to the bathroom. I couldn’t wash my own ass Lip. Where were you then? Where was my ‘family’, huh? He held my head up when I could only manage a sip of water at a time. He sat there for as long as it took to get water in me. He learned about dehydration Lip. I remember my ‘family’ standing over the bed looking down at me, criticizing Mickey, criticizing the way we lived. And you, Lip, you were particularly nasty and condescending. Nothing he did was good enough, never has been. But he took your shit because he knew that I wanted to see my ‘family’. He’s always put me first. Can you say that, big brother”? 

Ian was shaking with anger. He needed to calm the fuck down. He barked “I’m hanging up now. This fucking conversation is over. Don’t call me again until you can act like my brother, brother”. 

He disconnected the call and pitched his phone across the room, luckily it landed on the sofa. He stomped off to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. 

It was late, but he wanted a damn beer, and he would fucking have one. He was a grown ass man. He stood staring out at the Chicago skyline drinking his beer. 

He missed Mickey, longed for him. Mickey wanted to talk, he owed him that much. Mickey said that he wanted him back, but he didn’t know if they could get back together. He did know that he loved Mickey, will always love him. But there’s one question that he’ll have to answer: Why was he even with John if he wasn’t in love with him? They weren’t just fuck buddies, they were in a fucking relationship. He claims that he doesn’t know why he did it. That’s not good enough. He’s gonna have to tell me why. How else can we move forward? What’s to stop it from happening again?


	3. The Unwanted Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian gets a surprise visitor at his office. Turns out, Mickey is even more surprised.

The next morning, Charles knocked sharply and stepped into Ian’s office “Sorry Ian, but there is a John Long waiting to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment. Says it’s urgent”. 

Ian looked up with a frown “Urgent. Urgent how? What does he want”? 

“Says it’s a personal matter”. 

Ian thought for a moment. Nah, couldn’t be. “Charles can you describe him”? 

He described the fool Mickey was fucking. The fool Mickey cheated with. What the fuck is he doing here? He asked Charles to have him wait. 

Then he texted Mickey “Come get your man. He’s sitting in my fucking office”. 

Mickey was sitting at his desk going over the contents in the hospital’s ‘Complaints and Suggestions’ box when Ian’s picture popped up on his phone. He grinned, Ian’s texting me, fucking finally. It had only taken four days of flower deliveries. 

He had to read the text 3 times before he understood what Ian was saying. What the actual fuck? John was at Ian’s office? Why? 

He quickly typed “Why is he there”? 

“He’s your man. Don’t you Know? Whatever the fucking reason, you should come get him before I kick his ass”. 

Mickey was staring at his phone in total confusion. None of this made sense. 

He quickly typed “Ian, I don’t know why he’s there. Sorry this is happening. On my way”. 

He left his office running, passing up the elevator for the stairs. He really didn’t understand what was going on. Why in hell would he go to Ian’s office? Is he looking for me? How does he even know where Ian works? Hell, I just found out where he works the other day. The dude is fucking insane. Luckily there wasn’t much traffic, plus the hospital wasn’t that far from Ian’s office. 

He stepped off the elevator and hurried to Ian’s office, pausing at the door to compose himself. John was sitting alone in the waiting room, legs crossed, flipping through a magazine. Fuck. Shit. He was reading a fucking magazine? Mickey couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What the fuck is he doing? Does he want to apply for a job here? He has a fucking job. Was he trying to rile Ian up because Mickey wouldn’t see him? Wouldn’t talk to him? The more Mickey watched him the madder he got. At himself mostly. He had brought this asshole into their lives. This was all his fault. What had he even seen in this fucking guy? He had hurt Ian so he could fuck this fool?

Mickey stormed into the office and John looked up, startled. He dropped the magazine and quickly stood up “Mickey, what are you doing here? Did you come to see Ian”? 

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up to his hair line “The better question is what the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck is your problem, man? I tell you to leave me alone, you decide to fuck with Ian”? 

“No. No. I just wanted to talk to him. Iron a few things out. I don’t know what’s going on. It’s been a few days and I just thought everything would be straightened out by now. You won’t talk to me Mickey,” he explained nervously. He was confused. How did he know I was here? How could he know? Did Ian call him?  
Mickey’s eyes had fire in them “So, you in your infinite wisdom, thought you could straighten our problems out, mine and Ian’s problems, by coming to his job? Are you fucking insane? Get your ass outta here before I throw you out, and you know I will. Huh”? 

John shivered involuntarily as he recalled that morning years ago, when Mickey had literally thrown him out of his house. All because of Ian. He was beginning to think that coming here today was a mistake. “Mickey calm down. I was only trying to help things along. You won’t talk to me, I don’t know where he lives, I had to come here. We need to settle this,” he said in a rush. 

Mickey held the door open “Out. Get the fuck out. Now”. 

“Are you coming now? I’ll wait outside for you. Did you park on the street”? 

Mickey took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to hit this guy here in Ian’s office. Not in front of Charles. His voice was low and dangerous “Hell no. I don’t want you to wait. I want your addled brain ass to leave me the fuck alone. Think you can do that for me asshole?”. 

John looked around the room in confusion, surprised to see Ian standing in the doorway of his office, arms folded across his broad, muscular chest, his intense green eyes trained on Mickey. He couldn’t read his expression, but it was clear that Ian had already dismissed him. Again. Just like the night at the restaurant. He acted like John didn’t even exist, wasn’t worth the slightest glance. The arrogant asshole. And Mickey. Mickey looked like he was about to pounce. This whole thing had gone off the fucking rails. He just wanted Ian out of their life, gone forever. That’s why he had come, and once again, Ian had fucked everything up. He exhaled a shaky breath and slowly walked over to the door, careful not to brush against Mickey as he passed him. 

Mickey stood at the door for a long moment shaking his head. What was he supposed to say to Ian? How could he explain this shit? He was bringing his vile shit to Ian’s job. Ian was in management now, he couldn’t afford this bullshit. Fuck. Fuck me. Fuck my life. Jesus. 

Charles was sitting at his desk with his mouth hanging open. Things were starting to make sense to him. Mickey had cheated and now he had a fatal attraction. 

Mickey walked over to his desk “I need to see Ian. I saw him standing in the doorway. I know he’s here”. 

He contained his smirk, he was a professional after all. “He’s unavailable Mickey, I can take a message if you want”. 

Mickey spoke in a low, defeated voice “Tell him I’m sorry about that. Tell him he’s gonna have to talk to me sometime. Tell him that I love him. You got all that Charles”? 

“Yes. I got it all. Every word”. He smiled inwardly. Doubt it will help dumbass. You’re fucked, slick. 

There was nothing else Mickey could do. He had seen Ian standing in his doorway with his arms folded, watching the entire debacle. Mickey hadn’t been able to read his expression. But damn, did he look good. Hair combed back, dress shirt hugging those muscles, dress pants showing off his muscular thighs and long legs. Just thinking about him made Mickey’s dick hard. All that had been his, and he had fucked it up. He needed to stop that train of thought because he didn’t know when he’d get Ian back in his bed again. But he would, of that, he was certain. Ian was his and he was Ian’s. When he got outside, he didn’t see John and he didn’t bother looking for his dumb ass. He got in his truck and drove back to work.

Ian sat at desk deep in thought. Mickey was right. He had stood there watching the drama unfold. And Mickey used to call him a drama queen. What the fuck did he call that fool he was fucking? 

The whole thing had him confused. Mickey didn’t act like he was in love with John. He acted like he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him, and John had behaved like a desperate, besotted fool both times he saw his ass. What the fuck was going on with them? He said that Mickey wouldn’t talk to him, and he’d heard Mickey tell him to go away, to leave him alone. So, Mickey blew up their relationship and now he didn’t want the man? What the actual fuck was wrong with him? He sighed deeply as he stood looking out the window. He felt a migraine coming on.


	4. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey Hosts An Important Meeting

A week after John came to his office, Ian stepped off the elevator on Mickey’s floor. He reflexively reached into his pocket for his key as he approached the door. He sighed deeply. He was a visitor here. This wasn’t his home anymore. He lifted his hand to knock and the door swung open. 

Mickey had been listening out for him, he stood there awkwardly holding the door open. He looked at Ian with longing, regret and shame. He didn’t know how to act now that he was here. Should he invite him into his own home or just step aside and let him pass? Ian cleared his throat, but before he could speak Mickey said “I’m so glad to see you man. I miss you so much Ian”. 

He stepped aside, and Ian walked in. He was about to lay his keys on the table, again out of habit, but he caught himself. Mickey noticed his hesitation, and he hated himself even more for making him feel uncomfortable in his own home. 

Ian walked past the table and looked around, studiously avoiding John, who was sitting on the sofa. He could sense John’s intense gaze on him. He shrugged his jacket off and was about to lay it across the back of the recliner when Mickey took it from him, and held it against his chest, inhaling Ian’s scent. “Let me hang it up for you”. 

Ian smiled at him and sat down in the chair, stretching his long, muscled legs out in front of him, never once acknowledging John. 

Mickey was still standing over Ian, clutching his jacket, and taking him in. He wanted to touch him so badly, run his fingers through that beautiful, vibrant red hair, kiss those freckles, and that pale skin. He had been without him for so long. He needed him so bad. But he knew this was not the time. 

He groaned inwardly and wondered where the fuck he was supposed to sit. He refused to sit next to that asshole John. Why did Ian insist on him being here anyway? 

He had said hell no, when Ian said he had to be here. But Ian made it clear that if John wasn’t here, he wouldn’t be here either. So that asshole was here, but Mickey wasn’t going anywhere near his ass. He decided to just get a fucking chair from the kitchen. 

He asked “You need something baby? Water for your pills? Did you eat yet? Hungry? I can make you something. Went to the store, got some of your favorites”. 

Across the room, John was tired of being ignored, that asshole does this same shit every time all three of them were in the same fucking room. Fuck his arrogant ass. I have as much right to Mickey as he does. Mickey said something about pills. He looked at Ian “Pills for what? Are you sick”? 

Mickey glared at him and Ian just ignored him. 

“I’m good, Mick,” Ian said, smiling at him.

So, Mickey hasn’t told him that I’m bipolar. Why not? It’s not his business, but still.

Undeterred, and refusing to be dismissed any longer, John would fight for his rightful place. He stood and said, “I’ll get us all beers.” 

He had turned toward the kitchen when Mickey snapped “Man, you’re only here because he insisted. I don’t want you here. You’ve never been here, so don’t act like you know what’s in our fucking fridge. Now sit your ass down and shut your fucking mouth or get the fuck out. Got that asshole”? 

He bristled “Mickey I was just trying to ease the tension. This must be hard for Ian, coming back here like this. This used to be his home. This is hard for all of us. A difficult situation, but we’re adults, we can get past it”. He was just being reasonable. Mickey needs to get a fucking grip. His damn attitude is not helping.

Mickey walked over to him “Man sit your ass down. I told you to shut the fuck up. This ain’t whatever the fuck you think it is. Never will be what you want it to be. Another word and I’ll knock your ass out. You really don’t know me John. I don’t make idle threats man”. 

He glared at Mickey, he’d just about had enough of his damn attitude. Ian always brought out the worse in him. He hoped that they’d be done with his ass once and for all after this meeting. He took a deep breath and sat back down. 

Mickey was getting madder by the minute. He was trying hard to control himself. He looked over at Ian who was calmly occupying himself with his phone. 

Mickey had enough. He walked back over to Ian “What is he doing here, Ian”? 

“Your man here came to my office. He obviously has something to say to me. You’ve been blowing up my phone and bugging my assistant with calls and personal flower deliveries for days. Thought we’d settle this shit once and for all. Get on the same page, like your man said, since I’m the only one left out of the loop. Now fucking talk,” Ian said in a cold, hard voice, eyes never leaving Mickey. 

Mickey lowered his head. His anger was replaced with shame and remorse. He had caused this. His cheating ass had caused all this shit. Anger and violence toward John wouldn’t fix it. 

John was seething, he hated Ian with every fiber of his being. He could see that he was still in love with Mickey.   
Whenever he's around, Mickey treats me with contempt, like I'm the enemy. Ian is sitting over there, chill as fuck, while Mickey is losing his shit, turning on me Could Mickey still want Ian? Is he still in love with him? Nah, no way. He's just trying to figure out how to let him go. Mickey agreed to this meeting so he could end things with him. He wants to leave him with some dignity. That’s why he agreed to his terms. That’s why we're all here. 

So, he decided to just sit back and let it play out. He would be the one sleeping next to Mickey tonight, and every other night for the rest of their lives. Mickey was worth the humiliation. Mickey would make it up to him. 

Mickey forgot about getting a chair from the kitchen. He knelt in front of Ian, took both his hands, kissed then and held them firmly in his grasp. He looked deeply into his eyes “Ian I know how bad this is. Believe me I know. I let you down. I let us down. I love you. I don’t want John. I don’t want him Ian. I could never love him, never told him that I love him. I never want to see him again. I have never loved anyone but you. It’s always been you. You’re it for me Ian. If you can’t forgive me, won’t take me back, I’ll just be alone. I don’t want anyone else. I need you to forgive me. Please baby. Forgive me”. 

He turned to face John “This is me telling you that I don’t want you. I don’t love you. I could never love you. I love Ian, and only Ian. You already know that because I’ve told you that before, more than times than I can remember. I never told you that I would leave him for you. I will never be with you. I fucked up. You need to stop calling me, stop texting me. I don’t even know what I was doing with you. I really don’t know why I was with you. It was the biggest mistake of my fucking life. You need to leave now. Lose my fucking number. Forget you ever knew my ass. I don’t want you John. Get out. Now. Get the fuck out now John”. 

John was flabbergasted. What the fuck is he talking about? We haven’t solved anything yet. When he opened his mouth to speak, Mickey’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, he got up and opened the door. 

John looked at Ian, and for the first time ever, Ian was looking at him, but he couldn’t read his expression. 

He looked over at Mickey as he slowly got up, grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. When he reached Mickey, he began “Mickey I….” Mickey slammed the door in his face and turned to Ian. 

John stood staring at the closed door. What the fuck just happened? Had Mickey broken up with him? Was he for real? Just like that? Didn’t Mickey know how much he loved him? Hadn’t he proved his love? Proved that he was committed to their relationship? Didn’t he know that Ian wasn’t good enough for him? If Ian had been taking care of him, Mickey wouldn’t have come back to him. 

Mickey had come back to him because he knew what he needed, had always known. They were good together, and he refused to let Mickey throw it all away. Again. He should’ve fought harder for him the last time. He was worth fighting for. He was worth it to him. He wouldn’t just walk away this time. Ian was in for a fight. Fuck him and those probing green eyes.


	5. My Brother Is Spiraling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lip is worried about his brother and he intends to do something about it, but he's met with resistance.

Lip was sitting in Mickey’s office waiting for him to wrap up a call. He wondered how this had happened. Mickey fucking Milkovich has his own office, has people working for him while he toils away in a nasty ass garage. What the actual fuck? How did a hospital justify giving a convict such responsibility? 

He should be mopping up blood and guts in the fucking E R, with his thuggish ass. Sure, the charges had been dropped thanks to that damn lady lawyer. But Mickey would always be a low life convict. Lip couldn’t understand why people couldn’t see that. But whatever. 

He was here to tell Mickey to stay the fuck out of Ian’s life. To stay gone. Someone had to look out for Ian. After the other night, he was more certain of that than ever. 

Ian had been fucking hysterical, making all kinds of wild ass accusations. Had even called him delusional. He would let Ian calm down, then go bring him home. For now, he would deal with Mickey, hopefully for the last time. This shit is fucking exhausting.

Mickey looked at Lip as he hung the phone up “Why are you here Phillip”? 

He hated it when Mickey used his full name. As a matter of fact, no one else did that shit. He jumped right in “What did you do to Ian this time”? 

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline “How is our relationship any of your business Phillip”? 

“I’m his brother and I’m looking out for him. I’m supposed to look out for him”. 

“So, why didn’t he tell you then? Seems like he doesn’t think it’s your business either,” Mickey smirked, as he pushed his chair back, and propped his feet up on his desk. He was enjoying this too much, given his current circumstances. 

Lip was getting madder by the minute. This asshole thinks he’s better than me, thinks he’s making a power move or some shit. Well, I could’ve had much better than this, but shit happened. 

He snarled “I want you to leave him alone. Stay the fuck away from him. I talked to him the other night and he sounded manic. I’m worried that he might be spiraling and it’s your fucking fault. Whatever the fuck you did this time”. 

Mickey narrowed his eyes “So let me get this straight. You upset him, and he got mad. So now you think he’s spiraling, you think he’s manic. That about right, Phillip”? 

Lip was sputtering he was so mad “No. Whatever you did to him started it. I was just trying to get him to come home. We need to watch him, make sure he’s taking his meds, taking care of himself. He won’t even tell us where he’s living. Do you Know”? 

Mickey smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes “Why would I tell you? You just said he doesn’t want you to know”. 

Lip was livid, he stood up and shouted, “Fuck you, you no good piece of shit”. 

He was breathing so hard his eyes were bulging, and his fists were balled up at his sides. He was ready to kick this asshole’s ass. Just then, one of Mickey’s employees stuck his head in the door “Everything alright in here boss”? 

Mickey eyes didn’t leave Lip’s face “Yeah, Harry, all good. Just get this motherfucker out of here before I go back to jail”. 

Harry grinned “Sure thing boss, can’t have that. No sir can’t have that shit”. 

He walked over and clamped a large, beefy hand on Lip’s shoulder and spun him around. “Time to go buddy. Can’t have you upsetting the boss, now can we? Get your ass outta here”. He dragged a stumbling Lip out and closed the door. 

Mickey sat at his desk and thought about what he had learned from Lip. Ian’s family didn’t know where he was living either. He knew that Mandy didn’t know, and he sure as hell didn’t know. Ian had planned this shit well, he had found somewhere to live before he moved out of their apartment. He didn’t want anyone to know where he was. 

If he wanted to see Ian, he was gonna have to wait outside his office building and catch him coming or going. 

He wasn’t surprised that Ian’s family was doing the same old bullshit. They treated him like he was broken, incapable of having legitimate emotions. If he gets angry, he must be manic. If he’s sad, he must be clinically depressed. 

Well, apparently Ian wasn’t having it. Good on him. 

But he was no better than Ian’s family. He thought back to the night that he had counted Ian’s pills. He had known something was wrong with him that night, and his immediate reaction had been to count his pills. A crackhead move for sure. 

He was pretty sure that Ian had seen John’s text that night. Mickey was cheating on him, that’s what was wrong with Ian that night.   
He has every right to his emotions. Now he was managing his illness by staying away from everyone, including him. 

Equally confounding, he hadn’t told anyone what Mickey had done. Why? Mandy said that Ian wouldn’t tell her shit. Flat out refused to talk about it. Mickey didn’t know how to feel about that.


	6. Two Brothers At Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both think the other is being unreasonable.

Lip was tired and dirty, he needed a long hot shower. He was irritated as he trudged up the steps because on top of everything else, he had to park three houses away because Ian’s fucking truck was still parked in front of their house. 

When was Carl taking it back? 

Lip walked into the house and found Carl sitting on the living room sofa watching TV and eating a bowl of cereal. 

On his way to the kitchen he asked “How long are you keeping Ian’s truck man? You ever planning on returning it”? 

Carl laughed “I wish I could keep it. He let me drive it because he walks to work now. Lives close to his office”. 

Lip stopped walking and slowly turned around “How do you know where he lives? You been there”? 

Carl swallowed his mouth full, eyes glued to the TV “Yeah, I’ve been there a few times”. 

Lip walked the few steps back to Carl and shouted “You know where he’s living, and you didn’t tell us? Fucks wrong with you? You know we want to bring him home”. 

Before Carl could respond, Fiona walked in “What’s going on in here? I could hear you from outside. Lip lower your voice. What the fuck’s wrong”? 

“He’s mad because I didn’t tell him where Ian lives the minute I found out. Seems to think I had a duty to warn or some shit,” Carl said, never looking up. 

Fiona asked “You know? He told you”? 

Lip down sat next to Carl “Yeah this asshole knows and he’s gonna tell us. Right fucking now”. 

Fiona pursed her lips and looked over at him, but Carl was busy chewing. After he swallowed, he said “Ian doesn’t want you to know. Guess he doesn’t want to be kidnapped and forced to live here for his own fucking good. Not telling you shit”. 

Lip stood up and shouted “Fuck’s wrong with you? We don’t keep secrets in this house. Now where the fuck is, he”? 

Carl set his bowl down and looked directly into Lips eyes “You better slow your role man. I said I ain’t telling you shit. If he wants you to know, he’ll fucking tell you. Now sit your ass down and stop hollering at me asshole”. 

Fiona sighed tiredly “Alright stop it. Lip sit down. Both of you need to calm the fuck down, damn it. Carl why won’t you tell us? We just want to help him. We both went to his office, but he won’t see us. I don’t understand why you won’t tell us. We’re not the enemy here”. 

“Well stop acting like the fucking enemy then,” Carl got up and took his bowl to the kitchen sink and went upstairs to take a nap before his shift. What assholes.


	7. Mickey Gets Out Of Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes back in time.

Mickey was sitting at the defense table with his lawyer, Sara Greene. He was speechless. He couldn’t believe this shit. She had pulled it off. He was getting out. 

Today. This day. The prosecutor didn’t even fight hard, fucker just threw in the towel. The judge was making them send his shit to the courthouse, and he never had to go back to that shithole prison again. 

Mickey Milkovich was a free man. Holy shit, he was a free man. He couldn’t stop smiling. 

He grabbed Sara, lifted her off her feet, and hugged her until she started to squirm. 

She was about 35 years old but looked much younger. She was tall and slim, with long ass legs. Her shiny, shoulder length sister locks were streaked with silver, and she always wore tailored suits that flattered her slim figure. 

Mickey thought she was fucking gorgeous. He might be gay, but he wasn’t fucking blind. Sister girl had about 10 fucking things going on. 

He knew that her family was wealthy, and when her husband died 5 years ago, he left her his fortune. They never had children, he didn’t think she wanted any. 

She practiced the kind of law she was passionate about. 

Early on, she explained to Mickey that her mission was to right the wrongs that the criminal justice system perpetrated on poor people and minorities. She hated injustice. She chose her cases carefully, favoring the downtrodden and forgotten. That’s how she found him. 

When she read Mickey’s case file, she learned that his family and friends had abandoned him, and she knew then that she had to help him. 

She was smiling smugly at him “I told you they had no case. Just her word against yours, and she was a poor witness. She was a hot mess, you saw her. Mickey you were locked up simply because you couldn’t afford adequate representation. A damn shame”. 

When he started thanking her again, she said “Mick I know you’re grateful. One look at you and I knew you would die in there if I didn’t get you out. Now go and do something with your life. Make me proud. But first let me buy you a juicy porterhouse. We’ll have some drinks. Let’s get out of here. Boystown good for you”? She winked at him as they walked to her black, two-seater Mercedes. 

After dinner Sara asked, “Where do you want me to drop you”? 

He gave her a location, not an address. “Mickey do you have a place to stay”? 

He faced his window “I’m fine. Just take me there. Thank you for everything, dinner too. Had a good time, been a while”. 

She placed a hand on his arm “You’ll stay with me until you get on your feet. No argument. You need help, I can help. Simple”. 

She turned the volume on the radio up and started singing along with Aretha Franklin. 

Sara lived in a mini mansion in the north suburb of Glencoe. Her guest cottage would be Mickey’s home for more than two years. They established a routine that worked for them. The cook came three time a week, on those nights they tried to eat together. 

The cook made sure the fridge in the guest house was always stocked with Mickey’s favorite foods and lots of beer. Sara took him shopping for clothes, he only had the suit and shoes she bought him for court and the clothes he had been arrested in. 

One day they were about to enter still another high-end store when he told her “I don’t shop at stores like this. Never even been in one to steal shit”. 

She laughed loudly, “And I don’t shop at Walmart. This is how you help people Mickey. You help in the way that you can. This is how I can help you. I have the means to help make your life better, easier. Remember that when you run into someone with a need”. 

Every week she left an envelope with money on the kitchen counter for him. When he offered to do chores, she laughed “Honey, I’ve got people for that shit. You want to take their jobs away? Make them unemployed? I want you to figure out who Mickey Milkovich really is. Set some goals for your future, see then through. You’ve had it rough your whole life, no opportunities, no support. I’m giving you what everyone deserves Mickey, a chance. Simple”. 

Then she smiled and handed him the key fob to a shiny, black Cadillac Escalade. He had seen the truck in her garage and wondered when she even had the time to drive it. He chalked it up to ‘rich people’. Now here she was giving him the key. Was she fucking serious? Apparently so. 

“Sara, no. This is too damn much. I can’t drive this thing, fucks sake. Look at it. No”. 

She took an impatient breath “Mickey take the key. Drive the damn truck. How many vehicles can I drive at once? This was my husband’s truck. He would have liked you. You are a good person Mickey. I want you to have it”. 

He was crying by now, flat out sobbing. He had never known such kindness, such generosity. “Do you treat all your clients like this? You’ll be fucking broke in no time”. 

“Of course not. You’re special to me Mickey. Deal with it”. She laughed merrily as she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there bawling like a baby.

Sara did not keep tabs on him, she didn’t have time for that. She trusted him to make good decisions, when given the opportunity. They didn’t spend a lot of time together, but Mickey knew she was there for him. 

She would listen quietly when he talked about his plans, his fears, and his insecurities. 

She wasn’t one for pep talks, and only gave her opinion if he asked for it. He never felt pressured, he had time to work through his shitty past and his feelings about the people who had hurt him. For the first time in his life, he could relax and imagine a bright future. 

Sometimes he would pick up lunch and eat with Sara at her office. That’s where he met John, he was Sara’s paralegal. He liked Mickey the minute he saw him. He knew all about his past, having worked on his case with Sara. Mickey fascinated him, he liked everything about him from his beautiful blue eyes, to his vulgar knuckle tattoos, to his stocky, muscular body. 

They started hooking up shortly after they met. Mickey made it clear that he wasn’t looking for anything serious “I need to work on myself right now. I don’t want no heavy shit, man. No time for that. You good with that”? 

He smiled “I’ll take you any way I can get you, maybe you’ll change your mind”. 

Mickey quirked his eyebrows “Whatever. You heard me man”. 

He would agree to anything, he wanted Mickey “Yeah Mickey. It’s all good. I get it, man”. 

But John was tired of being alone, he wanted a relationship. He wanted a relationship with Mickey. He could tell that someone had hurt him really bad. He would help Mickey forget that guy. Whoever he was. He would make Mickey forget all about him. 

Mickey was his chance at happiness, and he planned to take it.

Before long, he was hopelessly in love. Mickey was the sexiest man he had ever met, and by far the best lover. He loved Mickey’s long eye lashes. Women had to use mascara to achieve that shit. He loved watching Mickey sleep, he looked so vulnerable and defenseless. He could spend hours sucking on those plump, soft, juicy lips. And that walk. Mickey had the sexiest, badass swagger. 

He loved it when Mickey wrapped him up in those strong, powerful arms, and those strong muscled thighs, they never gave out, no matter how long they fucked for. And that ass. Plump and bouncy, fucking delicious. It was so tight and warm, opened up for him so good, fit his dick so good. He’d never had had anyone like Mickey Milkovich, and he was keeping him forever. He belonged to him now and he was keeping him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mickey goes to prison when he's 20  
He gets out when he's 21


	8. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey goes to see Ian. Ian is unsettled after the visit.

Mickey wasn’t upset when his brothers didn’t visit him in prison, he hadn’t expected them to bother, but he did think that Mandy might want to know if he was fucking dead or alive. When she never showed up, he just pushed her out of his mind. 

But Ian was another matter entirely. He had mostly come to terms with the break up, chalking it up to Ian’s bipolar disorder. He hadn’t been thinking clearly then. 

Mickey really believed they would have gotten back together if he hadn’t gone to prison. They always got back together. 

He had all the time in the world to think while he was locked up. To put shit in perspective. He had always been impulsive, never taking time to consider consequences like he should. 

Fuck, he had been trying to survive. Busy trying to keep Terry from killing his ass, no time to consider fucking consequences. But that wasn't Ian's fault. 

He decided that it wasn’t fair to blame Ian for his own character flaws. If he was being honest, he knew that he had no business fucking with Sammi. 

But he could never understand why Ian never visited him, wouldn’t even take his fucking calls. Ian had to know that no one else would visit him. He knew that Mickey’s family didn’t give a shit about him. So, in the end he decided that Ian just didn’t give a shit. But how could that be? How could Ian just forget about him like that? He had loved Ian the best he could. Had always done his best for him, he had to know that. 

So, how could he just forget about him like that? Leave him to rot in a cell? That’s the question that plagued him the entire time he was locked up and it would plague him until Ian gave him a reason.

He was sitting in his truck, parked down from Ian’s house. Ian was sitting in some dude’s car. He watched him lean over and kiss the guy. They sat there talking for a bit, then kissed again. 

He figured that Ian was about to get out, so he started his truck and pulled up closer to his house. He turned ignition off and waited. 

Ian got out of the car and said, “Call me when you get home”. 

When guy drove off, Mickey got out and leaned against his truck. “Hey tough guy”. 

Ian’s mouth gaped open in shock and he whipped around so fast he stumbled “Mickey. Mick”? 

Mickey smirked “Yeah man, it’s me”. 

Ian slowly took him in. He took in the truck he was leaning against, then returned his gaze to Mickey. He didn’t know where to start. He was stunned. 

What the fuck? Is he real? “You got out? When? What are you doing here? How? Mickey”? 

Mickey was grinning, clearly amused. This goofy fucker. “Been out a while now. Just wanted to say ‘hey’, that a'right”? 

Ian chuckled nervously “Yeah. Sure. Just shocked to see you, is all”. 

He’s been out for a while? Where has he been? Under house arrest? But where? Shit. I need to get a grip. Fuck.

Mickey nodded to the passenger side of his truck “Wanna sit for a minute? Got time? If this is a bad time…….” 

Ian quickly said “No. Yeah man. Let’s sit, talk…….”. He walked around to the passenger side and got in. 

Mickey got in and turned to look at Ian “So what’s up man? What’s going on with you? You good”? 

Ian swallowed, he was having a hard time forming a coherent thought. This is the last thing he expected tonight. Shit. Mickey. He’s really here. 

He finally managed to say “I’m good. What about you? When did you get out? Whose truck, man? You didn’t steal it did you? You gotta be careful Mick”. He was too overwhelmed to think about the implication of his question. He was trying to get his bearings. 

Mickey considered his answer, noting the implication “Been out awhile. Truck belongs to a friend.” 

Ian heaved a sigh of relief “Oh. I’m glad to see you Mickey. I missed you”. 

“I Missed you too, Ian. Missed you a lot. Did a lot of thinking in there, not much else to do”. 

Ian let his eyes roam slowly over Mickey’s body “You look good Mick. Real good. Sorry I didn’t visit. I was in a bad place back then”. He dropped his head, concentrating on his fidgeting hands. 

Mickey nodded curtly “No worries, man. So how you doing now”? 

Ian looked up at him and smiled brightly “Better. Much better. Legit job. I’m an EMT. Thinking about getting the paramedic certification. Taking my meds, seeing a therapist. All good”. 

“Good for you, Ian. I’m happy for you. Always wanted you to be safe and happy”. 

Ian was fidgeting with his hands, looking down again “I know Mickey and I’m grateful. Might not seem like it, but I am, always have been. So, tell me about you? What you been up to since you got out? Any plans? Where are you staying? At the house? Heard Terry was out. But that was a while ago, probably back in by now”. He knew he was babbling, but fuck, he was nervous.

Mickey didn’t want to give him too much information, so he weighed his words carefully “It’s all good man. Been laying low mostly, weighing my options. Shit like that. Staying with a friend for now”. 

Ian looked at him skeptically “The same friend the truck belongs to?” Some criminal, I bet. He needs to let that shit go if he wants to stay out. 

Mickey smirked, Ian had always been a nosey fucker. “Yeah Ian. Never had many friends. You know that”. 

Ian was studying him intently “You seem different Mickey. Can’t put my finger on it, but you’re different. Looks good on you, though”. 

He laughed “Just taking things slow for once. First time I’ve had that luxury, taking full advantage and shit”. 

Ian was unsettled by the vague answers. “You haven’t asked about Mandy. She know you’re out? She didn’t say anything”. 

He stared out at the night “I haven’t told her. You’re my first stop”. 

Ian was totally confused now “But you said you’ve been out awhile. You haven’t told anyone? Not even Mandy? Why”? 

“Haven’t got around to it, I guess. No reason really” Mickey said as he gave an indifferent shrug. 

Ian didn’t understand at all “Well, you gonna tell her? Want me to tell her”? 

“That’s not why I stopped by, but do what you want, man”. 

Ian was getting increasingly frustrated “The fuck Mickey? She’s your sister, don’t you think she deserves to know that you’re out of prison? What’s wrong with you”? 

“Look man, I didn’t come here to upset you. I just stopped by to see how you’re doing”. 

Ian pressed on, this was too important “I just don’t understand, is all. You sound like you don’t care”. 

Mickey shrugged and continued to stare out into the night. Ian was uncomfortable with the tone of the conversation. He just didn’t understand any of this, and he didn’t like it. Mickey always took care of Mandy, made sure she had what she needed even when he went lacking. What had changed? Mickey didn’t seem bitter, resigned maybe, but not bitter. 

After a prolonged silence, Mickey straightened up in his seat “Well, I’m gonna get going man. Just wanted to see you. Glad things are good with you”. 

Ian wasn’t ready to let him go, but he knew that when Mickey shutdown, that was it, so he quickly regrouped “Well ok then. Let’s meet up. Grab a beer, talk some more? You barely told me anything. I wanna know what you’re up to Mickey. When are you free? Your schedule seems pretty flexible. I’m off the next two days. How’s tomorrow? Whatever time suits you”.  
He reached for Mickey’s phone in the console “Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in”. 

He called himself and locked his number in, smiled and gave it back to Mickey. 

Mickey wasn’t sure any of this was a good idea. He almost wished he hadn’t come. Ian had to know that he had seen him kissing that guy. 

How would he feel about Ian getting a beer with him? What the hell, he could always cancel or just ignore Ian when he called. If he even called. He took his phone back, noting that Ian had saved his number to the contacts. “Let’s just play it by ear for now,” he said. 

Ian frowned, he didn’t like the sound of that “Come on Mickey, what’s wrong? You came here looking for me, now you don’t wanna spend time with me, get a beer, talk? I don’t understand. Why did you even come then”? 

Mickey was quiet for a minute “OK man. Tomorrow it is. What time? But not the Alibi”. 

Ian’s head was spinning. This was just too much. Mickey hasn’t told his family he’s out. He doesn’t want to go to the Alibi. He decided to let it go for now. . “Well, how about Loser’s in Boystown? Remember it? That ok with you princess”? 

Mickey laughed loudly “Fuck you man. Yeah, I know it. What time”? 

Ian thought for a minute, trying to remember what he had planned for tomorrow night. He couldn’t think for shit. 

He was a fucking mess. 

“7? That ok with you”?

“See you at 7”. 

Ian opened the car door and paused. He turned to look at Mickey, “I’m really glad you’re back Mickey. I missed you”. 

He gave a mock salute and drove off, leaving Ian standing in the middle of the street deep in thought.

Trevor had picked Ian up from his family’s house for their date earlier in the evening, so Ian’s car was parked out front. They didn’t do much, just some beers and pool at the Alibi. He had planned to visit with his family for a while since he had tomorrow off, but after seeing Mickey he just wanted to go home. He needed to make sense of it all. 

Mickey was out. He had no idea how long he had been out, how he could even afford a lawyer to re-open his case. Maybe he got in touch with the Innocence Project or something. 

He wondered why he had never thought about getting a lawyer for him. He had a good job, he could’ve done something. He hadn’t even tried. Shit. 

He was apparently the only person Mickey had bothered to contact. He was positive Mandy would have mentioned it if she knew. 

Why was Mickey being so damn secretive? He would call Mandy when he got home. He needed to get to the bottom of this.< /> He got into his truck and drove away.

Ian had a studio apartment in Boystown, the East Lakeview neighborhood. The rent was steep, but he managed. Having his own space was worth the sacrifice. 

He loved his family, but he had grown tired of the constant drama. Fiona and Lip had been against him moving out, but he put his foot down. 

He told them “I qualified for the apartment. I’m moving out. Support me or don’t, your choice. Not changing my mind”. 

At the time he wondered if their objections had more to do with losing his contribution to the squirrel fund than their stated reasons. He understood that, had always understood it.  
He’d been working since he was 14, putting everything he earned at the time into the squirrel fund. Kash made sure he had spending money and other shit. 

He had been the first one in the family to have a full-time job. He had been proud to do his part to help. But with Carl and Debbie both working now, there was no reason they couldn’t swing it without him. He refused to be guilted because he wanted to live on his own. He did however, make sure that Liam had an allowance, and he pitched in for his school clothes and extra curriculars.

He met Trevor soon after he got the EMT job. They got along well, had fun together, the sex was good, but he’d definitely had better. He thought that he could grow to love Trevor one day, or at least live companionably with him. 

Recently, Trevor had been talking about living together, taking the next step. But Ian valued his own space, loved his solitude. The more he resisted, the more insistent Trevor became, creating an underlying tension in their relationship. He was satisfied with his life as it was. He was managing his symptoms, he loved his job, got along well with his co-workers and with his neighbors. He was content, for the first time in his life he could breathe. He wasn’t about to sacrifice any of that for a next step that he wasn’t sure he wanted to take. 

He answered Trevor’s call as he was opening the door to his apartment. He had forgotten that they were supposed to talk. 

Trevor said “Where you been, man? I’ve been calling you”. 

He stammered “Uh, I decided to come on home, just got in”. 

Trevor sounded annoyed “It doesn’t take that long for you to get home from your family’s place. Did you stop somewhere? I was getting worried. Was gonna call Fiona if you didn’t answer this time. You alright”? 

Ian sighed tiredly “Yeah, I’m good, just tired. Gonna turn in early”. 

“You sound tired. Get some rest. What are we doing tomorrow night? You’re off right”? 

He hesitated before answering. Shit. Guess that’s the plan I couldn’t remember. Shit. “Yeah, I’m off. Let’s just see how everything goes”. 

“What does that even mean Ian? You sure you’re alright? Need me to come over?” he was exasperated with Ian’s answers. 

Ian ran a hand over his face, trying to calm down. He wanted to end this fucking call “Trevor I’m fine. Gonna go to bed. Talk tomorrow. Good night”. 

Trevor was still talking “Well, ok. ‘Night baby, I love you”. Ian had already hung up.

He stood in his kitchen replaying his conversation with Trevor as he drank a bottle of water. Why was I so short with him? 

Why didn’t I just say that Mickey was out, he came to see me, and we made plans for tomorrow night? It’s not a big deal, he knows about Mickey. 

But he knew exactly why he was irritable. Mickey had unsettled him, he just needed time to process it all. That’s why he was short with Trevor. He would apologize tomorrow. Trevor would understand. But for now, he needed to talk to Mandy.

He went out to sit on his balcony while he waited for Mandy to answer. He needed a cigarette. He didn’t smoke much, but he kept a pack around for times like this. 

When she answered he got straight to the point, “Did you know Mickey was out”? 

She had to pause before she could answer. Fuck’s he talking about? “Out of where? Prison? When? Where is he? He can’t be out, can he? Didn’t he get 8-15? Somebody said he got 8-15. I know he didn’t get out on good behavior. It’s too soon for that anyway. Over-crowding maybe? Are you sure Ian”? 

He took a deep breath, she was asking questions that he he couldn’t answer. Mickey didn’t tell him shit. 

He heard her saying “Ian, are you there? Ian, answer me”. 

“Sorry. You were asking so many questions. His conviction was overturned. Must’ve gotten a good lawyer or something. He wouldn’t say how long he’s been out. Just said ‘awhile’. Kept saying vague shit like that”. 

“What do you mean vague shit? What else did he say”? 

“Well, he said he’s living with a friend. Wouldn’t say who or where. He was driving a Escalade that belongs to the friend”. 

“You know he’s probably into some shady shit. You know Mickey. That’s why he wouldn’t tell you. I can’t believe he hasn’t contacted me though. I’ve got the same number. Maybe he forgot it, wanted to get it from you. He ask you where I was”? 

He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but this was too important to lie about, so he said “Uh, not really, I asked if he’d told you he was out, and he said that I was his first stop”. 

“Well, did you give him my number”? 

“He didn’t ask for it, Mandy”. He was being as gentle as he could, but he had to tell her the truth. 

She was crying now “The fuck you mean he didn’t ask for it? You should’ve given it to him anyway. He’s my brother, Ian”. 

His nerves were raw. Why the fuck is she getting mad at me? He snapped “I know that Mandy. He didn’t seem to want it. The whole fucking thing was bizarre". 

He paused to collect himself, then continued "He’s different Mandy. Calmer, mature. Something, I don’t fucking know. Fuck. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions. I did get him to agree to meet for drinks tomorrow night. Believe me it wasn’t easy”.

She was still crying “I can’t believe he doesn’t want to see me. Hasn’t tried to call me. You had to bring me up to him. Are you sure you heard him right”? 

He felt bad for her, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Yeah Mandy I’m sure. It happened just like I said. Sorry”. 

“You said you’re meeting him tomorrow night? Where? I’ll join. I can’t believe he doesn’t want to see me. You can’t make me believe that. I don’t know what happened, but you got it wrong Ian”. 

He lit another cigarette, trying to calm his nerves “I’m not trying to make you believe anything Mandy. I’m just telling you what happened. Think about it. If Mickey wanted to see you, what’s stopping him, huh? And as for you coming tomorrow night, not a good idea. I will ask him to reach out. Tell him you wanna see him. That’s the best I can do”. 

She blew her nose noisily “I’ll ask him myself asshole. I know you have his number. You gotta give it to me, Ian”. 

“I can’t Mandy. I don’t think he wants you to have it. I’ll ask him to be sure. You know I’m not trying to hurt you here. It’s just a fucked-up situation, all around. I think we just let Mickey set the pace or he’ll bolt. We don’t want to lose him again, Mandy. Ok”? 

She was pissed at him and at Mickey. She snapped “Fuck you. No, it’s not ok. Nothing about this is ok, asshole. I’m gonna hang up now. Let me know what he says. Be sure to tell him that I wanna to see him”. He sat on his balcony thinking, long after she hung up.

When Mickey answered John’s call, he was on his way home after seeing Ian “Hey man. What’s up? I’m driving. Make it quick”. 

“I’m on my way to your place. Want me to pick up anything? I’m stopping for beer,” He chuckled. 

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up “We don’t have plans for tonight. I told you already, you can’t just invite yourself over whenever you feel like it. This ain’t like that man. You know this. I’m hanging up”. 

Now Mickey was really irritated. He was self-aware enough to know that it wasn’t just John’s foolishness that had him on edge. It was mostly the time he’d spent with Ian. Seeing him kiss that guy. But he also knew that he really needed to have another talk with John, go over the ground rules of their thing. Again. Fuck. 

As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t even a relationship. More like fuck buddies. He liked the guy a lot and the sex was pretty good, the guy gave amazing head. They mostly got along, until he started pushing boundaries. Yeah, they needed to talk. Soon.

When he drove up the driveway, he saw Sara’s kitchen light on, so he went to check in with her. He found her sitting at the kitchen counter dishing up ice cream.  
She smiled at him “Heard you coming so I got a bowl for you. Come on. Sit”. 

He laughed as he walked over to the counter and sat down “Thanks. What’s up with you? Got your hair done. Very nice Ms. Greene”. 

“Thanks. Took all damn day”. 

He circled her stool checking out her hair “Price for being a beautiful black woman, dear”. 

She gave him an appreciative smiled as she sat his bowl in front of him. They ate their ice cream in companionable silence. It was easy for them to just sit quietly together. 

When she finished, she got up to take her bowl to the sink, he motioned that he’d clean up, he was getting seconds. She kissed his cheek “That’s a new flavor, cook wanted us to try it. It hit the spot. She put some in your fridge. Night Mickey”. 

He smiled happily as he continued to spoon ice cream into his mouth “Yeah, it’s pretty good. Night Sara. Pretty lady”. 

He sat there for a while longer thinking over his time with Ian. 

His phone beeped with a text, startling him. John. Fuck. 

“Just wanted to say sorry. Wanted to be with you tonight, been a while. Miss you. Talk tomorrow”. 

He typed absently, “Talk soon”. 

He got up, rinsed the bowls and spoons, then loaded the dishwasher. All those assholes should see me now. The fucking life I’m living. He turned the light off and walked the short distance to his home. His fucking home.< /p>


	9. I Want Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Ian meet for drinks. Apologies and anger ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still in the past.

When Ian pulled into the parking lot at Loser’s the next day, he was half an hour early. He had been anxious about seeing Mickey all day, and he wanted to compose himself before Mickey got there. 

He took extra care with his appearance and judging from the looks he was getting his effort had paid off. 

He was wearing a green button down that Trevor said made his eyes pop, tight black jeans, and his nicest pair of black boots. He had gotten the boots on sale at Macy’s a couple of weeks ago. His hair was slicked black and he was going for that scruffy stubble look. 

He was about to walk out the door when he’d decided to use the cologne Trevor gave him for Christmas. He felt a twinge of something akin to guilt as he sprayed the fragrance. He told himself it’s just cologne as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. 

Any guilt he might have felt was overtaken by his anxiety over being with Mickey again, spending time alone with him after so long. Fuck, he had missed him. 

He found a secluded booth, ordered a beer and settled in to wait. His anxiety level increased when his phone beeped with a text. His first thought was that Mickey was cancelling. No, he wouldn’t wait until the last minute. 

He looked at his phone. Mandy “Is he there yet? Did you tell him that I want to see him”? 

He wasn't up to dealing with Mandy right now. Before he could start typing, he saw Mickey walking toward him. He typed quickly letting her know that he had just walked in. 

He looked up and smiled “Glad you could make it Mickey. Sit down. Let’s get you a drink. Jack? Beer”? 

“Jack sounds ‘bout right” Mickey said as he sat down across from him. 

Ian signaled the waiter and ordered the drink. All the while he was blatantly checking Mickey out. He couldn’t help it. 

He was wearing a black button down, an expensive leather belt, and tight black tapered jeans. The black lace up boots he was wearing had to cost at least $350 on fucking sale. What the actual fuck? When did Mickey start dressing like this? Where did his sense of style come from? Where does he get the money for this expensive shit? 

Mickey never owned a real leather anything in his life. He never cared about shit like that. 

But he did look good, so fucking good. He was wearing his hair longer, combed to the back. Ian noticed that last night. He had a 5 o’clock shadow going on, and It looked so soft, Ian wanted to reach out and touch it.

Shit, he’s always been beautiful, his beauty is polished now. Everything about him was on point. He was fucking perfect. Ian unconsciously licked his lips.

Mickey was blushing from Ian’s blatant appraisal “So, what’s up tough guy”? 

Ian placed his hands firmly in his lap. He needed to control himself, keep his hands to himself. He looked deep into those incredible blue eyes “You. You’re what’s up, Mick. I wanna know everything man. What you been doing. How you got out. Your plans. Where does this ‘friend’ live? I wanna know all about your ‘friend’. I want details Mick”. 

When Mickey’s drink arrived, he drank half in one go, set the glass on the table, sat back in the booth and cleared his throat. Ian was watching his every move, he was mesmerized. 

Mickey thumbed his lower lip and met Ian’s gaze “Why do you think you’re entitled to details about my life Ian? Why don’t we talk in detail about your life”? 

His tone was even, but Ian caught a glimpse of something in Mickey’s eyes. Was it pain? Anger? Hostility? Ian didn’t know for sure. 

“Fair enough Mick. What do you wanna know”? 

Mickey sipped his drink and leaned forward “Unlike you, I have no demands. Tell me anything you want or nothing at all. Up to you, man”. 

Ian had finished his beer. He needed something stronger, like right fucking now. He signaled the waiter and ordered two Jacks and coke, pretty sure Mickey wanted another. 

When the waiter left to get their drinks, He said “I only had one beer, so I’ll be ok with one drink. I don’t drink often, one beer a day mostly”. 

Mickey studied him for a moment “You do you man. Not my business”, he said shrugging indifferently. 

Ian didn’t know how to feel about that. Mickey had always made sure he didn’t drink too much, always concerned about the effect of too much alcohol on his meds. 

Was he saying he didn’t care? What the fuck does he mean? I used to be able to read him. I knew him better than anyone. How did he change so much? What the fuck happened? 

He looked at Mickey and something deep within told him that he should know what happened, that he did in fact know exactly what changed Mickey.

He needed a moment, so he excused himself and went to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. 

Mickey was mad as hell. Mad at him. Mad at Mandy. We abandoned him. And I sat there demanding he tell me all about his life now, the life he’s somehow managed to make for himself. With no help from me and no help from Mandy. And we have the nerve to be offended because he didn’t run to us the moment he got out. 

Hell, I’d be mad at me too. I have no rights to him anymore. None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. 

What the fuck was I thinking? Ian dried his face, took a deep breath and walked back to their booth. Their drinks had arrived, thank fuck. 

He sat down and took a healthy sip, “So I am an EMT, over 2 years now. I’m studying for the paramedic certification. I live not too far from here, in East Lakeview, studio apartment, going on 2 years. Moved there soon after I got the job. I’ve been stable for a while, take my meds on schedule, see my therapist on a regular basis, psychiatrist every 3 months for med reviews. You know how all that goes. I keep on top of stuff. Oh yeah, I drive an older model Chevy pickup, not as nearly as nice as what you’re driving. That’s it. That’s me. Any questions”? 

Mickey wondered why Ian didn’t mention the guy he was kissing last night. The guy must mean something to him. He had heard Ian tell the guy to call him when he got home. Well, he wasn’t going to mention him either. 

Instead, he took a large gulp of his drink and said “You’re doing well for yourself. I’m glad for you Ian. I always wanted the best for you. That will never change”. 

He smiled bashfully at the compliment “Yeah things are good. Worked hard to get here”. 

Mickey asked him how he had managed to leave home. 

“Fiona and Lip were totally against it at first. I told them that they had no say in it. It was already settled. My rent application had been approved”. 

Mickey laughed “Good on you man. Good on you. I bet that was one fucking raucous family dinner though”. 

The image of a table full of Gallaghers all talking at once made him laugh harder. Ian laughed along with him.

Mickey was getting hungry. He and Sara weren’t eating together tonight so he might as well eat here. He would call to see if she wanted him to bring her anything. He would see if Ian wanted to eat, if not Mickey was fine with that. 

“I’m getting hungry man. What’s good here”? 

Ian thought for a moment “I like their burgers, pizza is pretty good. Their wings are good, but too spicy for you. So, we’re gonna have dinner then”? 

Mickey was straightforward “Well, I’m hungry, so I’m gonna eat. If you got some place to be, later man”. 

Ian still had to talk to him about Mandy and he wasn’t ready to leave anyway. He wanted to be here with Mickey, he said “I could eat”. 

They waved the waiter over and placed their orders. Mickey excused himself to call Sara. She told him she was working late and didn’t know what time she would get home. She thanked him for thinking about her. He told her that it felt good to have someone to think about. Someone to care about, someone that cared about him too. 

After disconnecting the call, he stood there smiling, thinking about his good fortune. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a single thing he had ever done in his shitty life to deserve someone like her. His willing benefactor. Yet here they were. He was so grateful. He was determined to make her proud. And he would pay her kindness forward. Bet. 

Ian watched Mickey as he made his call. He would be willing to bet all the money in his savings that he was talking to the mysterious ‘friend’. Who the fuck was this person anyway? He needed to know. 

Mickey was smiling when he came back. He sat down and looked around for the waiter, “Gonna get another drink”. 

He looked at Ian’s glass “How you doing over there? Want another”? 

Ian chuckled “No, I’m good, taking it slow”. 

When their food arrived, Mickey ordered his 3rd drink and Ian asked for water. They were almost finished eating before Ian spoke “Mickey I talked to Mandy. She wants you to contact her. She doesn’t understand why you haven’t already. She wants your number”. 

He finished chewing and sipped his drink “I’ll get with her sometime. I know how to find her”. 

As far as Mickey was concerned that subject was closed. He looked up to find Ian frowning at him, his beautiful green eyes troubled. Mickey knew that look, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be influenced by it. He couldn’t afford to. 

Ian was sincere as he made his case “Mickey why are you treating her like this? Why won’t you at least talk to her? I don’t understand you anymore. You and Mandy were close, closer than anyone else in that awful house. What the fuck is wrong with you anyway”? 

Mickey just looked at him. That look was back. Anger. But Ian continued “She cried when I wouldn’t give her your number. She wanted to come here tonight to see you. I had to tell her no”. 

“Ian you could just delete my number. Nothing stopping you man. That way you can tell her you don’t have it. You’re off the hook. Fucking case closed”. 

He exploded “Fuck you Mickey, you asshole. That won’t solve anything, and you know it”. Mickey simply shrugged and sipped his drink. He didn’t enjoy making  
Ian mad, but he kept insisting on things that he was not going to do.

Ian was getting madder, he pushed his plate away and got to the point, his fucking patience had run out “Ok Mickey. You have a right to your privacy, everyone does. But I think this is more than that. I think you’re mad at Mandy and mad at me. Tell me I’m wrong”? 

Mickey’s cold blue eyes stared directly into Ian’s troubled green ones “Why would I be mad at you two? I really want to hear this Ian. I want to hear you say it. Tell me, what reason do I have huh”? 

He swallowed and looked down at the table, unable to look at Mickey any longer “Because of the way we treated you. Because we abandoned you when you got locked up. Especially me, because you were defending me. You got locked up because of me and I abandoned you”. 

Mickey had a stone cold, hard glint in his eyes. Ian had seen that look when Mickey was getting ready to fight, but he wasn’t afraid of Mickey. 

He could hold his own in any fight and Mickey knew it. He was just as south side as Mickey. Worst case scenario, they would kick each others ass and get kicked out of here. But that glint did let him know just how mad Mickey was. 

“That so? You think I’m mad Ian”? Mickey asked in a strained voice 

Ian whispered “Yeah, I do Mickey. I’m so sorry for that. I’m so ashamed. At first, I was manic then I went into a bad depression. It was worse than any of the others. I missed you so much and you were gone. I couldn’t bear looking at you through that fucking filthy glass. Then when my meds evened out, they all said that I needed to forget you and focus on my health. So, I did. I know it was wrong, the worse thing I’ve ever done. But I listened to them Mickey. I just did. I tried to forget about you. I know I was wrong. I should’ve been there for you. You’ve always been there for me. I’m so sorry Mickey”. 

Mickey had to get out of here. Now. He signaled for the check, “I’m glad you got better Ian”. 

Ian stared at him and nearly shouted “So that’s it? You’re just gonna pay the check and fucking leave? Just like that”? 

The waiter wasn’t coming fast enough so Mickey stood up, threw some bills on the table and grabbed his phone “Yeah Ian. Just like this”.  
He turned and walked the fuck up out of there . 

He was so damn mad he was shaking. Ian had always been a selfish asshole, but he was always good to me. He always fucking loved me. Hell, he loved me when I didn’t love my damn self. He was the first person to make me feel like I mattered, that I was good enough for someone to love me. He wanted to be with me, fought to be with me. He made me feel like I was worthy of love, like I could be happy. He gave me hope that maybe I could have those things that I had never even dared hope for. He was my happiness, my love, my future.  
He was everything to me. 

Then he took it all away and left me to rot in that shithole prison. He forgot all about me, and he did it on fucking purpose. He put forth effort to forget about me. That’s what he just said. He set out to forget my ass. He had known that no one else cared what happened to me. Nobody. Not a single damn person. 

Of course, I understand that he was sick. I was fucking there when he was diagnosed, sitting in the room with him for fucks sake. I was there while he suffered through debilitating depression and fucking mania. I was right there by his side through it all, doing the best I could to take care of his ass. Loving him through it all. 

But this time when he got better, when I really needed him, he chose to work on himself. Fuck me because his fucking family said so. Yet when his family was against him moving out, he did that shit anyway. What about his fucking family’s wise counsel then? 

Now, today, right fucking now, this motherfucker wants to sit there and say sorry. Well fuck that, fuck him and fuck his family, and fuck Mandy. I’m fucking done. 

I read some fucking where, when a motherfucker shows you who they are, you fucking need to believe them. I’m going with that shit. I’m so fucking done. Done with Ian and done with Mandy. To hell with them. The motherfuckers. 

I’m building a life for my damn self now. Working on myself. Making a future for myself. I have more help than I ever imagined possible. All I gotta do is take full advantage of the fucking help that Sara provides. She’s my family, she’ll never abandon me. I don’t need Ian, and I certainly don’t need Mandy. My fucking life is full.


	10. A Stalker,  and An Unfortunate Altercation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of Mickey's secretive behavior, Ian decides the's had enough. John is not happy, he takes a stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still in the past, providing context.

Ian is taking the prep course for the paramedic certification at Malcom X Community College. The class meets on Monday and Wednesday nights. He studied hard and is proud of his grasp of the written material, and he's looking forward to the practicum. He's even thinking about taking some business classes once  
he's certified. 

After his Wednesday night class ended, he decided to go to the third floor where the business classes were held, hoping to find someone that could answer some of his questions. 

He was walking down the hall when he saw Mickey walking with a female, and he had a backpack. Ian didn’t want Mickey to see him, so he ducked into an empty classroom and waited until they walked by. 

Could Mickey be taking business classes? They hadn’t seen each other since that disastrous dinner three weeks ago. Mickey wouldn’t take his calls, but he did answer some of the random texts Ian sent. He never revealed much in the texts, and Ian didn’t ask many questions, because he didn’t want to lose contact with him altogether. 

Seeing Mickey here made him even more curious about his life. What the fuck was he hiding? He decided that if he had to stalk him to get answers, then he would. He just wanted to know why he was being so damn secretive. He would follow his ass home or wherever the fuck he went after he left here tonight.

He emptied his bladder because he didn’t know how long he’d have to wait. He was sitting in his truck wearing a baseball cap pulled low, waiting for Mickey to come out. 

He was parked so that he had a clear view of Mickey’s truck without being recognized. After waiting for almost two hours, he saw Mickey laughing and talking with an older man as they walked to their cars. 

He pulled his cap even lower and slid down in his seat. Finally, the other man walked away, and Mickey got in his truck. 

He waited until Mickey was in the line to exit the lot before he pulled out of his parking spot. 

He stayed at least 3 car lengths behind as he followed Mickey north. He was shocked when he realized where Mickey was heading.  
Holy shit, this is Glencoe. What the fuck is he doing out here? Rich people live here. These are fucking mansions. I hope he’s not going to rob one of them. 

He watched as Mickey signaled, then turned into a long ass circular driveway. He’s not acting like he’s casing the place, he just drove up the driveway and parked in a huge ass garage. 

Ian watched him get out of his truck and walk up to the big ass house. 

Was he gonna pick the lock? Break the damn window? Had he learned how to disarm alarms in prison or some shit? He always had mad skills and nerves of steel, but shit, this is fucking risky. These people had state of the art security systems, private patrols and shit. 

He decided that Mickey’s ‘friend’ must live here. Nothing else made sense. He watched Mickey open the door and just walk the fuck on in. Like he lived up in there. Nobody came to the door to let him in, he just walked the fuck on in. 

If his ‘friend’ lives here, he could fucking afford to let Mickey drive around in his Escalade, buy him designer clothes, fucking real leather belts and leather boots. 

He was now positive that the mysterious ‘friend’ was Mickey’s boyfriend/sugar daddy. Ian wondered if Mickey remembered teasing him about the ‘old fucks’ and the ‘geriatric viagroids’ he use to dance for at the club. 

How did Mickey even meet this man? He just got out of fucking prison. As far as he knows, it takes time to build a relationship. Then he realized that he didn’t know when Mickey got out. He only knows when he saw him. The asshole. 

Well, I came this far, might as well go through with it. Just hope I don’t get my ass arrested fucking with him out here. Asshole. 

Just when Ian decided he would go to the door, and just ask for him, Mickey came back out. He just came here to see someone. Now he’s leaving. Ian breathed easier, this makes more sense. 

But then he went into the garage and came out with his backpack. He walked over to a smaller house and just walked his ass up in there. Ian watched the lights come on. That must be a guest house? Shit, he‘s staying in some rich fuck’s guest house. 

Ian felt a migraine coming on and he was starving. He squeezed his temple tightly with the heels of his hands and took a deep breath to calm himself. He ran both hands through his hair, took another deep breath and drove up the driveway. 

If someone calls the police, I’ll just tell them that I’m visiting Mickey since he apparently lives here in fucking Glencoe. If his boyfriend is around, I’m just an old friend. Let Mickey explain the shit. If he was more forthcoming, I wouldn’t be skulking around out here at night. Shouldn’t be so damn secretive. Prick. 

He parked in the driveway near the guest house/guest cottage. What the fuck ever. He wasn’t about to park in the garage. He took his migraine medication from his backpack and just as he was stepping out of his truck, Mickey opened the door and peered out.  
When he saw Ian, his eyebrows shot up to his hair line and his mouth fell open. 

“Ian? What are you doing? Why are you here? How did you even know…..”? 

Ian was stressed the fuck out, he’d had enough of Mickey’s particular brand of bullshit. 

He walked up to the door and leaned his head against the door frame “Can I have some water please? I’m thirsty and I feel a migraine coming on. Can you just let me in”? 

Mickey stood there speechless, just looking at him, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How does he even know I live here? The fuck? 

Ian was getting more and more impatient, and his head was pounding relentlessly. 

“Mickey let me in and close your damn mouth” he said with steely determination. 

Mickey snapped his mouth shut and stepped aside to him in. 

Mickey remembered that he was talking to John when he heard the noise outside. Shit. And of course, he had wanted to hold on while Mickey checked to see what the noise was. He pointed to the fridge and Ian went to get his water. 

He picked up his phone “I’m back man. I…”, before he could complete his thought, John interrupted  
“Do you have company Mickey? I heard someone talking. Anyone I know”? 

Mickey was distracted and irritated. First Ian shows up outta the fucking blue looking like his ass is ’bout to pass out, and now I gotta deal with this dipshit.  
What the actual fuck is going on tonight? 

“A friend stopped by. Let me hit you up later. He won’t be here long” he said, giving Ian a pointed look. 

John was reluctant to end the call, he’d heard a man’s voice and he wanted an explanation “Do I need to be worried Mickey? I mean he just stopped by? You don’t let me just stop by and we’ve been dating awhile. Just saying”. 

Mickey couldn’t deal with John’s shit right now “Nah man, nothing to worry about. Talk soon”. 

He disconnected the call and looked at Ian who leaning against the wall massaging his temple. He sighed and busied himself plumping the sofa pillows. 

Ian rolled his eyes, making his head hurt worse “Can I sit down please”? 

“How long do you plan on staying? Sit the fuck down Ian, then tell me what you think you’re doing. How the fuck did you find me? Very few people know where I live. Very few”. 

Ian sat down on the over-stuffed sofa, he was using his thumbs to massage his temple now, praying the medication would kick in soon. 

He cleared his throat “I followed you here from school. You’re so damn secretive, you won’t even talk to me when I call, so I stalked your ass”. 

“Isn’t that against the law or some shit”? 

“Whatever Mickey. I want to know about you, where you live, if you have a boyfriend, what you do for fun, what you’re studying at school. Just normal shit that normal people share”. 

“Well now you know where I live. You sneaky asshole. I’m taking business classes, gonna matriculate to the University of Chicago next semester. The rest is none of your damn business. We already had this conversation. Remember”? 

Ian was too worn out to give a damn. He snapped “Well at least I got more Information this time, no thanks to your stealth ass. I just happened to see you at school tonight”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes “Why didn’t you say something when you saw me? Like those normal people you’re talking about would do”? 

“Because I wanted to follow you”. 

Mickey looked at him long and hard “Ian what are you really doing here”? 

He let his eyes roam slowly over Mickey’s body, “You know what I want. I want what I’ve always wanted Mick”, he said in a low, husky voice. 

Mickey sat down in the chair across from him. He got back up abruptly, deciding he needed a beer to deal with Ian’s shit. When he opened the fridge he turned to Ian “Beer? Another water? Pop? I’m having a beer myself”. 

Ian breathed a sigh of relief. At least he’s not kicking me out. Yet. “Beer please”. 

Mickey opened two beers and set one in front of Ian. He smiled “Thank you”. 

Mickey went back to his chair and sat down. “Migraine better”? 

“Getting there” he held up his beer, “Pretty sure this will help. Cheers” he said with a hollow laugh. 

Mickey just rolled his eyes They drank their beers in companionable silence for a while. Mickey broke the silence “Ian you shouldn’t be here. I didn’t invite you here. I don’t have people just showing up. I have things to do. A routine I stick to”. 

Ian considered how to respond. Mickey had flat out ignored his pass. He looked around, taking in the expensive furniture, the soft tones of the tasteful décor, the medium size modern kitchen. 

He wondered what was behind the two closed doors across the hall, guessing that one must be Mickey’s bedroom. 

He finally spoke “Sorry for intruding. Just wanted to know about your life. I miss you Mick. A lot. I came here for you, I’ll always come for you. That’s why I’m fucking here.” 

Mickey took a large gulp of his beer “Ian, come on man. Don’t do this. You moved on, remember, your family told you to. You said you got stable and moved on, said your life is good”. 

He bristled, eyes flashing with anger “So you’re gonna use that against me? That’s not fair and you know it. You know how fucked up my brain can get. I was sick Mickey. I wasn’t thinking straight”. 

Mickey chewed the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t trying to upset Ian, he really wasn’t, but he shouldn’t have come here.  
So, game on. “Yes, I do know how that shit fucks with you Ian. Was there for a lot of it. But you told me that you made the decision to forget my ass when you were stable. Crisis was over man”. 

“Mickey you know how my family is. Especially when it comes to you. They just kept after me. I’m so sorry. I know that I was wrong. They were wrong. Mickey I never stopped loving you. Nobody can take your place”. He was crying now. 

Mickey passed him the box of tissues he kept on the TV table. He waited until he calmed down,  
“Ian you should leave. This is upsetting you. That’s the last thing I want man”. 

Ian’s head was throbbing again “Mickey what I need is for you to forgive me. Love me again. We can make it work. I know we can. Please Mickey”. 

He shook his head “You say that now Ian. What happens when your family tells you that us being together will hurt you? Mess up your life, huh? You know they will. You just told me how relentless they are when it comes to me. I guess they were less fucking relentless when you told them you were moving out because you went ahead and did it anyway. Seems like you stand up to them when you want to. On the important shit. On the other shit, they decide for you. That it? That how it goes Ian? Well I’m tired of being the other shit. I’m worth more than that”. 

Ian sighed loudly and looked at the floor. He was filled with shame and remorse. When he looked up, he spoke so softly Mickey had to lean forward to hear him. 

“I know I’m an ass Mickey. I never took up for you like I should have. I’ve done so much wrong and I’m so ashamed. If you give me another chance, I’ll be the man you deserve. I promise you that. On my life Mick. I have always loved you, and you know that. It kills me to think that you don’t love me anymore. I know it’s all my fault, it still kills me. I’m gonna leave, let you get back to your night, but I won’t give up. I’m gonna fight for you. Just like I fought for you when we were kids. Hell, I fought your ass for you. Remember that Mickey”? He smiled sadly as he wiped his wet eyes with his hands, forgetting about the tissues. 

Mickey smiled softly “Yeah Ian. I remember everything about us. Everything. All of it”. 

He got up and went into the kitchen “I’m making tea. Want some”? 

“Yeah I’ll take a cup. Please. Then I’ll leave,” he said in a hoarse voice, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the sofa. 

Mickey put the tea bags in the cups. He didn’t want Ian driving while he was so upset. He would always worry about him. He had come to terms with that long ago. 

While he waited for the water to boil, he thought about the things Ian said. It all sounded good, but he wasn’t convinced. When you learn that you can live without someone, thrive even, the whole equation changes. 

It was his time now. He had put Ian’s happiness and well-being ahead of his own, and he had been repaid with disloyalty and contempt. 

As he poured hot water into the cups, he acknowledged that Ian might still be in love with him. He knew that he would always love Ian. But that was not enough. He needed someone he could count on. Someone who would put him first. Someone who would demand that their family treat him with respect no matter how they really felt. Someone willing to stand up for him. He had learned that he deserved that. Respect. He deserved respect.

He smiled at Ian as he handed him his tea. He took his cup to his chair and sat back down. 

Ian took a sip “This is good. When did you start drinking tea Mick”? 

He laughed “I don’t drink it a lot. When I got out, I guess”. 

Ian spoke quietly “Are you seeing anyone? Got a boyfriend? I ask because I intend to get you back Mickey. I need to know what I’m up against. That’s only fair. Don’t you think”? 

Mickey sipped his tea. He really hated this shit. He was only drinking it because he knew Ian loved it, and he wanted to give him a chance to calm the fuck down. He used to drink it when they lived together. Mickey never understood why he liked it so much. Still doesn’t. 

He considered Ian’s question. How much should he tell him? 

“Let me ask you a question. How does that guy you were kissing the night I stopped by fit in to all this, the guy you were kissing in the car”? 

Ian’s gaze never wavered “He’s pretty serious. Wants to live together. I’ve been thinking about it, but it never felt right. Whenever he brought it up, I was always changing the subject. Now I know why. Gonna tell him no. No to all of it. Now your turn”. 

Mickey didn’t ask him why he hadn’t wanted to move in with the dude, exactly what hadn’t felt right, even though he did want to know. 

Instead, he cleared his throat “Well ok then. I am seeing someone. He’s serious, too serious sometimes. Me, not so much. That’s all I’m gonna say about it”. 

Ian yawned “That’s all I need to hear”. 

He yawned twice more in rapid succession as he stood up “Ok. Thanks for the water, the tea, and the beer. I’m gonna get going”. 

Mickey looked at him closely and saw how fatigued he was “Nah man. Look at you. You’re too sleepy to drive, and I doubt that migraine is gone. It’s not like you live a block away. I have a spare room, you’ll sleep there. I’ll get you something to sleep in”. 

He opened one of the closed doors “I think you’ll be comfortable in here”. 

He opened the other door “Bathroom. Use anything you need”. 

He turned to look at Ian, he hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you standing there like that”? 

Ian smiled gratefully “I really appreciate it Mick. But are you sure it’s ok? What about your boyfriend? Won’t he mind”? 

He smirked “It’s fine Ian. I’ll get you something to sleep in”. 

He disappeared down a long hallway. Ian was standing in the same spot when he came back. He handed him a folded white T shirt and a pair of soft gray sweats 

“This should be ok for your long ass”. 

“Thanks. I need to go out to my truck. Be right back”. 

He walked outside and took a deep breath. What the fuck? Does his boyfriend live in the other house? What’s he gonna think? I should just go.  
No, he invited me to stay. He’s worried about me driving? I’m fucking staying. He got his pills and went back inside. 

Mickey was in the kitchen, he asked “You got everything you need man”? 

Ian grinned “Yeah. Can I have some more water”? 

Mickey nodded to the fridge “I was thinking while you were outside. I was about to eat when your ass drove up. You hungry? I can make roast beef or ham sandwiches, got soup, and left-over pizza. What do you think”? 

He laughed loudly “Yes. Yes. I’m fucking starving. What about two sandwiches, one of each? That ok”? 

“Yeah princess. We can do that. For sure. Get your ass over here and help since you want a fucking buffet”. 

Ian laughed happily as he went to the sink to wash his hands. Mickey opened the fridge and started pulling out meat, two kinds of bread, two kinds of cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, mustard, and salad dressing. 

“We can use whatever you like”. 

Ian was hungry enough to bite into the head of lettuce. “Ok. This is great Mick”. 

They made their sandwiches, opened a 2-liter Pepsi, a bag of chips and sat at the kitchen counter to eat. They talked about their classes and Ian’s job. When they were done, Mickey rinsed the things they used and loaded the dishwasher while Ian wiped everything down. 

Mickey said, “I usually go out for a cigarette after I eat”. 

“Sounds good, lead the way”. 

Mickey laughed, got his cigarettes and lighter and headed down the hallway to the back of the house. He opened a door and they stepped out onto a deck. 

They settled themselves in over- size rattan arm chairs with plush cushions. There was a matching sofa, a long coffee table sat in front of it, and 2 smaller tables with lamps sat next to the chairs. Two matching ottomans sat across from the sofa. Everything matched. 

Mickey lit two cigarettes and passed one to Ian. 

Ian sat back and took in his surroundings. It was beautiful out here. There was green grass as far as he could see, he saw rose bushes in the distance, and an assortment of mysterious flowers that he couldn’t identify. 

He took a deep breath, marveling at his surroundings. Mickey really has it made. He was happy for him, he deserves good things. He just hoped he would get another chance to make Mickey happy. He would never hurt him like that again. 

When Mickey’s phone rang, Ian expected him to take the call inside, but he must’ve let it go to voicemail because he didn’t move. They smoked another cigarette, and Ian told stories about people from the neighborhood. 

When he yawned Mickey said, “Ok tough guy, let’s get you to bed”. 

Ian got a pretty good look into what must be Mickey’s bedroom as they walked back down the hall. It was a very large room with a king four poster bed. There was a large desk and chair in one corner, a loveseat in the other, and a large bay window with a cozy looking built in, cushioned seat. 

He averted his eyes when he sensed Mickey looking at him. He sincerely hoped he’d get a chance to explore the room more fully. 

When they reached the room Ian was using for the night, Mickey turned to him “Need anything? Take a shower, or whatever, make yourself at home. I’m gonna turn in myself. I usually study before I go to sleep. If you get up first, start the coffee. Goodnight”. 

“Goodnight Mickey. Thanks for everything”, he said softly. 

He closed the door and stripped, he’d shower in the morning. He was exhausted, glad he had taken his pills before dinner. He picked up Mickey’s T shirt and sniffed it. The smell was so achingly familiar it bought tears to his eyes. He put Mickey’s clothes on and crawled into bed. The mattress was incredibly comfortable. He fell asleep immediately, surrounded by Mickey’s scent, more content than he had been in a long time.

Mickey was in his room looking at his assignment but thinking about the evening he spent with Ian when his phone rang. Shit. He had forgotten that John called earlier. He should just let this one goes to voicemail too. 

He picked up “What’s up man? I’m doing homework. Got a lot of reading”. 

John tried to hide his irritation. He knew that Mickey didn’t coddle, but he also knew that Mickey had spent the evening with another man. He knew that Mickey hadn’t answered his call earlier. What the fuck had he been doing? Mickey was his, and he deserved some fucking answers and he intended to get them. 

“Hey Mickey. Just wanted to say goodnight. You get my message? You must’ve been in the shower when I called, didn’t hear your phone”? 

Mickey stifled a yawn, “Got busy and forgot to call you back”. 

He was dying to know about this friend who just happened to stop by. My ass. Busy doing what exactly? He couldn’t help himself “So how was your friend? Have a good visit”? 

He rolled his eyes “He’s alright. Just stopped by”. 

Undeterred, John went on “I’ve never known you to have company Mickey. I know that you don’t see people from your past. Is he someone you just met”? 

Mickey was getting irritated “No John. He’s an old friend. What’s with the 20 fucking questions man”? 

He felt he was owed a fucking explanation, Mickey was his boyfriend. He wasn’t going to let him just brush him off,  
“I’m just curious. You had to cut our call short because he showed up, then I call back and get voicemail. Like I said, just curious. Did he stay for dinner”? 

Mickey was trying hard to keep his temper in check “Yeah, we made sandwiches, opened a Pepsi. Had a couple of beers It was cool”. 

John was mad as hell. He didn’t like this shit one bit. Was it a fucking hook up? He was determined to get to the bottom of this shit. He didn’t care how irritated Mickey was getting. 

“Sounds like he was there for a while. I had planned on stopping by myself, before he showed up. Unlike him, I was going to ask you first, like you always insist I do”, he said in a strained voice. 

Mickey tried to lighten things up, but this bullshit was getting tired “You sound jealous princess”. 

He used his sexiest voice “Maybe I am. I can be there in a half hour or less. No traffic out. What do you think? You miss me don’t you Mickey”? 

Mickey couldn’t stifle his yawn this time “Told you I’m studying. I’ll try to stop by tomorrow night, how’s that? Can you wait that long”? 

“I guess I’ll have to since you’re studying. Can’t interfere with that. If your friend didn’t come by unexpectedly, I could’ve been there and on my way home by now”. 

He was really pissing Mickey off by now. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. “Look, I gotta go. Talk tomorrow”. 

He disconnected the call and rubbed his hands over his face. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to study. His mind was on the man in his front bedroom. Ian fucking Gallagher. 

When he woke up the next morning Ian was gone. He had made coffee and left a note for him. 

Mick,  
Working the early shift. Thanks for everything. I meant everything I said last night. Have a good day. Talk soon.  
Love you,  
Ian 

Mickey was chewing his inner cheek and reading the note for the second time when there was a knock on his door. Did Ian forget something? He put the note on the counter and rushed to open the door. 

John stood there smiling “Hi Mickey. I’m going in late today. Thought I’d stop by and have coffee with you, and whatever else you wanna let me have”. 

Mickey was at a loss for words. He expected to see Ian, not John. 

Unable to hide his disappointment “You couldn’t call first? You know how I feel about this shit John”. 

John didn’t miss a beat, he was all about seduction this morning “Well, are you gonna let me in or what? You look adorable by the way. Always like you in the morning. Hair sticking up, lips all plump and puffy, cheeks flushed. Wouldn’t mind seeing your fine ass first thing every morning”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes and stepped aside to let him in “Man, shut the fuck up. It’s too early for that shit. Coffee’s ready. I’m going to the bathroom”. 

John headed for the kitchen with a smile. He was pouring coffee for them when he saw the note. 

It wasn’t Mickey’s handwriting and it wasn’t Sara’s either. 

He picked it up and read it. What the fuck? Who the fuck is Ian? He stayed all night? Old friend my ass. They fucked. Mickey fucked him. 

He was so caught up in his outrage he didn’t hear Mickey walk up. 

He jumped when Mickey angrily snatched the note from his hands “What the fuck are you doing? You walk up in here and just pick up my shit and start reading? The fucks wrong with you man”? 

He was so mad, he was stammering “What’s wrong with me? You’re the one cheating with Ian. Who the fuck is Ian, Mickey? Who is he”? 

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, and his nostrils flared “What did you just say to me? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? You don’t run me motherfucker. Don’t ever fucking question me. I don’t report to your ass. You got this shit way twisted. Better check yourself motherfucker”. 

He was too fucking mad to back down “Who is he? He stayed here all night, didn’t he? Did y’all fuck Mickey? That why you couldn’t answer the damn phone when I called last night? Who the fuck is Ian? Who the fuck is he Mickey”? 

Mickey grabbed John’s tie and pulled tightly until their faces were only inches apart “If you don’t get your ass outta here right now somebody will carry it out.  
I will knock your stupid ass out. The fuck’s wrong with you? This is my house, you forget that huh? You dumbass motherfucker. I do whatever the fuck I want, with whoever the fuck I wanna do it with. I’m a grown ass man”. 

John was choking, but Mickey didn’t let up as he pulled the tie tighter and dragged him to the door, opened it, pushed him out of it, and slammed it shut.  
John landed on his knees, managing to break the fall with his hands. 

He got up and stared at the closed door, coughing, struggling to catch his breath. His neck was sore, he could feel a bruise forming. His hands were scratched and bleeding, his shirt had blood on it, the knee of one pant leg was torn and he was standing on his fucking tie. 

Shit. Fuck’s wrong with Mickey? He couldn’t believe he had thrown him out like that. He wasn’t in the wrong here, Mickey was. Who the fuck is Ian?  
He still didn’t fucking know. 

He limped painfully to his car wondering if he had sprained his back when he landed on his hands and knees. 

He tried calling Mickey, but he wouldn’t answer. 

He’d just have to give him time to calm down. Mickey would probably call him first. He’d realize that John had every right to be upset, he’d be sorry for the way he acted. Mickey is a pretty reasonable guy, he just lost his temper, that’s all. 

But for now, he had to go back home to clean up, inspect his body, and see if he could salvage his damn clothes. He still had to go to work. What a fucking way to start the day. Who the fuck is Ian?

Mickey sat at the kitchen counter breathing heavily, trying to calm down. He couldn’t believe that crazy motherfucker. Who does he think he is questioning me? I don’t belong to him. Reading my shit. He’s lucky I didn’t kick his ass for real. 

He looked at his phone. John’s contact lit up. Now he’s calling. I just threw his ass out and he’s calling? What the actual fuck? Addled brain motherfucker. Yeah, we need time apart. A long time. Maybe forever. Fuck.


	11. Sunday Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian talks to his family. Guess who grew up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still in the past, providing context.

The family had just finished another loud, boisterous Sunday family dinner. Everyone was there except Liam, who was at a sleepover. 

They had three separate conversations going on right now, with no signs of a lull in any of them. Ian knew that he would just have to go for it. So, he did. 

“Mickey was released a while ago. I still love him, and I believe he still loves me. I’m gonna do all I can to get him back, if he’ll have me”. 

He sat back in his chair and waited. 

Fiona was first “Ian what are you talking about? He got 8 years, didn’t he? How did he get out? Good behavior, over-crowding? What? What are you even talking about”? 

Before he could respond, Lip jumped up and started pacing “Here we go again. The fuck Ian? Whenever you get your shit together that asshole shows up to set you back. If he cared about you, he’d leave you the fuck alone. He’s no good for you man. Fucking thug. You gotta know that. Look at all you’ve accomplished with him out of your life. Fuck sake Ian”. 

Debbie sat there quietly and listened. She wasn’t surprised by her older sibling’s reaction. What she really wanted to hear was Ian’s response. Would he finally stand up to them? Defend Mickey? She hoped so. 

Carl quietly got up and went to the fridge to get beers for everyone and a Pepsi for Lip. He opened his beer, sat back down and waited.

Ian took a healthy gulp of his beer and looked at his older siblings, “You done”? 

When no one spoke, he went on “This is me telling you what I’m gonna do. I was not asking for permission, and I certainly was not asking for your advice. Feel how you wanna feel, but know this, if we do get back together you will not insult him, you will keep your fucking feelings and opinions to yourself”. 

Lip had sat down, now he jumped back up “We’re supposed to just sit back and let you ruin your life? Are you fucking serious? I hate to ask, but Ian are you feeling ok? Keeping up with your appointments and everything? Taking your meds”? 

Before Ian could answer Carl jumped in “And there it is. I knew one of you assholes would bring that shit up. Ian loves Mickey and wants to be with him, therefore Ian is acting crazy. I call bullshit. Utter bullshit. He’s doing better than any of us: been stable for a long time, steady job, studying for the paramedic cert, his own apartment, a truck. He’s handling his shit. And you don’t think he’s capable of making decisions about who he loves, who he wants to share his fucking life with? What the fuck am I missing here? Ian is a fucking Gallagher success story as far as I’m concerned”. 

Ian had tears in his eyes as he gave Carl a grateful smile, he whispered,   
“Thank you”. 

Carl smirked “No worries man. Meant every fucking word”. 

Lip glared at Carl and sat back down. 

Fiona was indignant “Carl that’s not all there is to it. We want Ian to continue down the path he’s on. Mickey will fuck that up. He is a fuck up, always will be. You know his family, they’re all fuck ups. Thugs. Ian remember when you decided to forget about him and move on after he got locked up? That was the right decision. Look how far you’ve come. It was the right decision then, and it’s the right one now, Ian”. 

Ian took a sip of his beer and leveled his gaze at Fiona “Yeah Fiona, I remember letting you and Lip talk me into abandoning Mickey when I knew that he didn’t have anyone else. When I knew nobody else cared about him. When I knew that he’d be in that fucking prison alone without any visitors. Without money for the fucking commissary. He didn’t have shit and I knew it. Yeah, I remember Fiona. I was so busy working on myself I wouldn’t even take his fucking calls. I also remember that the only reason he was in there is because he was standing up for me and he was protecting Debbie. Funny how nobody ever mentions that. So yeah Fiona, I remember, and I’m so ashamed. I was so fucking wrong, never been so wrong about anything in my damn life. Just so you know, I don’t blame you and Lip. I knew better. I chose to hurt Mickey, to let him rot in a fucking cell. That was all me. But you do understand why I’ll never take your advice when it comes to Mickey again”. 

Debbie was crying “I hope it works out for you and Mickey, Ian”. 

He smiled at her “Thanks. Me too Debs. I’m gonna do all I can to get him back. I love you Fiona. You took care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself. You sacrificed yourself for all of us, and I will always be grateful to you. Lip, I love you. I always looked up to you. You were my best friend, my protector. You taught me how to protect myself. I measured everything against you. But, both of you need to understand that when we got together Mickey was 16, almost 17, and I was 15. We fell in love then, and we’re still in love. Please don’t make me choose”. 

He stood up “I’m tired, gonna go on home. Night”. 

His choice was already made. He walked out the door without a backward glance. 

When Lip jumped up to follow him Fiona said, “Let him go Lip. Let him calm down. You know how crazy he gets when it comes to Mickey. Sit down so we can figure out what to do about this shit”. 

She glared at Carl “And you didn’t help at all. What the fuck’s wrong with you? You know what happens to him when he gets caught up in Mickey’s bullshit. You need to keep your fucking mouth shut. You don’t understand shit, Carl”. 

Carl bristled “I don’t understand shit? Looks like you two don’t understand shit, and you’re fucking deaf on top of it. Here’s what I do understand Fiona. You’re gonna run him away if you make him choose between us and Mickey. He will choose Mickey every time. He just told your dumbasses that. They love each other. Mickey has always done his best for Ian. Hell, he came out in a damn bar full of people, he fought fucking Terry. He did that shit for Ian. He tried to kill that bitch Sammi just because she hurt Ian”.

Lip had calmed down “Carl, all that shit is in the past. Ian has moved on, he’s with Trevor now. It’s our job to get him back on track. Talk some sense into him. We’re his family. How are you gonna feel when he winds up back on the psych ward huh? That’s exactly what’s gonna happen if we let Mickey fuck up his life again”. 

Carl challenged him “So now you’re blaming Mickey for Ian being bipolar? And I’m supposed to be the dumb one”? 

Lip snarled “Fuck you, Carl. Of course, I’m not blaming him for that. But I am blaming him for making it worse. For hurting Ian over, and over again. I was there when they started this shit show they call a relationship. I told Ian not to fall for a fucking Milkovich. They ain’t nothing but trouble. Every single one of them. Like Fiona said, you don’t know shit Carl”. 

Carl wasn’t giving up “I’ll tell you what I do know, Lip. I remember how Mickey sat at Ian’s bedside day after day. I watched him take all day to get Ian to eat a fucking sandwich, he would break it up into tiny pieces and feed it to him. Piece by fucking piece. I watched him feed him soup. Mickey had to hold his head up while he sipped water, one fucking sip at a time. I watched Mickey bathe him, set him on the fucking toilet. I watched Mickey take care of him every day. And you know what Lip? He never fucking complained”. 

By now Carl was standing up, with tears in his eyes, towering over Lip, 

“So, don’t fucking tell me I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. The real question is where the fuck were you Lip? Fiona, where the fuck were you? Y’all say Mickey is a thug? Yeah, that thug stole, and he ran every scam he could fucking think of to pay for Ian’s expensive ass medication. To keep a fucking roof over our brother’s head. He made sure Ian took his meds. He carried Ian to the car, carried his ass into the fucking clinic. He made sure he kept his appointments. And you sit here and say he’s not good enough? Well fuck you. You’re both fucking assholes”.

Lip was so mad he was shaking. Fiona’s mouth was hanging open, and Debbie was crying. 

But Carl wasn’t done yet “Don’t get quiet now assholes. Come on with your sanctimonious bullshit. Let’s go goddamn it”. 

Fiona closed her mouth and blinked away her tears “Carl you don’t know the full story. Mickey didn’t want our help. He took him to that house, away from here. This was his home”. 

Lip was floored in the face of Carl’s outrage. The fuck? He was gonna make him understand that he was wrong. They had to be united against Mickey. 

He glared at Carl “He wouldn’t even let Ian be hospitalized at first. He let him get real bad before he let us take him to the hospital. That was on him. Your precious Mickey”. 

Carl had gotten another beer. He drank a third of it, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and sat down 

“Not saying that Mickey did everything right. They were fucking teenagers. Kids. What the fuck did Mickey know about fucking bipolar? What the fuck did Ian know? His fucking life just blew up in his damn face. No fucking warning. They were two devastated, scared kids. My point is you can’t question Mickey’s commitment. He loves Ian and he did his best for him. You can’t just erase that just because it’s inconvenient for you. You don’t like him? Fine. But facts are fucking facts asshole”. 

Fiona looked stricken “We did go to see about Ian. All the time. Me and Lip both”. 

Lip glared at Carl “Let it go Fiona. He’s so far up Mickey’s ass, nothing you say is gonna make a difference to him. He always worshipped Mickey’s thug ass”. 

Carl rolled his eyes and ignored Lip and turned to Fiona “I remember you coming there and standing over Ian’s bed staring at him. I remember you criticizing Mickey, pointing out everything you thought was wrong. Never offering to help. And Lip, you were worse with your condescending, pompous ass. You went out of your way to insult Mickey. And he took it because he loved our brother. He should’ve kicked your ass. I know I wanted to. You both should be ashamed. Don’t worry, I know you’re not. You’re assholes”. 

He got up and stormed out. 

Debbie stood up, looked at her oldest brother and then at her big sister “What he said. I agree with everything Carl said. I went to see Ian every day. I know Carl is telling the truth. Everything he said is true”. 

She walked out to join her baby brother on the porch. 

Lip said “Fuck that shit. All of it. Those two were just kids then. What do they know really? Question is what are we gonna do now? We can’t just let him fuck up his life for that thuggish bastard”. 

Fiona swiped at her tears and shook her head “I don’t know. I don’t know what we’re gonna do. I don’t want to lose Ian over this. Fucking Mickey Milkovich”. 

She left Lip sitting alone at the table fuming.


	12. Ian Ties Up Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian does the right thing. He's confronted with the lies he told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still in the past.

Ian and Trevor were having drinks at a bar in Boystown, and Trevor was monopolizing the conversation as usual. He was going on and on about the difficulty he was having securing funding for a second shelter. 

He found a suitable building on the outskirts of Boystown two months ago, but he was afraid he would lose it if he didn’t get more funding soon. Ian was trying hard to be attentive. He supports Trevor and admires his passion for his work, but his mind was somewhere else. On someone else. On Mickey. 

Ian startled when Trevor tapped the table loudly. He was looking at Ian with concern,   
“Where were you man? Feeling ok? Let’s finish up here and we can leave. You are going home with me tonight right? Been awhile. Missing you baby”. 

Ian decided to jump right in. He hadn’t told Mickey what he was going to do, but it was the right thing. The only thing, really. He couldn’t let Trevor continue to   
think they had a future together. Even if things didn’t work out with Mickey, he didn’t see a future with Trevor. 

He had almost talked himself into believing they could have a life together. Then Trevor had started pressuring him to live together. Just when Ian started to realize that he didn’t want that, Mickey walked back into his life. Now here they were. 

He met Trevor’s eyes “I’m fine Trev. I’ve talked to you about Mickey. Remember”? 

Trevor sat back with a smug look “Sure. The thug that fucked up your life who’s serving 8 to 15. What, something happen to him? Why are we talking about him”? 

Ian took a sip of his drink “He’s out. Been out for a while now. Been seeing him, nothing sexual. Just talking things out. I still love him Trevor and I want him back. Gonna do everything I can to get him back”. 

Trevor leaned across the table “You’ve been cheating on me with that thug”? 

Ian rolled his eyes “That’s all you got from that”? 

He snapped “No. I heard every damn word. I trusted you Ian and you sit here and calmly tell me you want that thug back, been seeing him behind my damn back. What’s wrong with you? What kind of life can you have with an ex-con? He’ll never get a decent job. Can’t even put his name on an apartment lease. Are you out of your fucking mind? We can have a good life. I know all about your bipolar, doesn’t make a difference to me. You know that. You want to throw it all away for a thug that treated you like shit? You can’t be fucking serious. Does your family know? They can’t be on board with this. I can’t believe this bullshit. After the way he treated you, you want him back? Unbelievable”. 

He took a deep breath, drained his glass, signaled the waiter and sat back, glaring at Ian. When the waiter came over Ian ordered another drink too. He figured he would need it. 

“Trevor, I love him. I’ve always loved him, and he loves me. I will always choose him. Denigrating him won’t change anything”. 

Trevor sputtered “Denigrating him, you say? Everything I know about him, you fucking told me. It all came from your damn lips, Ian. I’ve never even seen the motherfucker. So, you were lying? That what you’re saying”? 

He bowed his head in shame. Trevor was right. He had said terrible things about Mickey. Shamelessly lied on him and about him. When their drinks came, Ian grabbed his and took a healthy gulp. He folded his hands on the table and looked directly into Trevor’s eyes, 

“Yeah, a lot of what I said was lies. At the very least, I didn’t explain things fully. I guess I thought if I made him out to be a monster it would be easier to forget him. I’m sorry I misled you. I’m sorry that I’m hurting you now”. 

Trevor pushed his drink away and stood up “You are so full of shit Ian. Fuck you. You and your thug deserve each other”. 

He stood there glaring at Ian for a long moment “When it blows up in your fucking face, and it will, don’t fucking call me. Don’t ever call me again. Asshole”.   
He stormed out. 

Ian sat there with his head in his hands. Everything Trevor said was true. It was all bullshit. Why had he gone out of his way to portray Mickey as a monster? 

What the fuck was wrong with him? He signaled the waiter and paid the tab. He walked to his truck slowly, deep in thought.


	13. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian gives an ultimatum, respect Mickey or he's out. Done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still looking back, providing context.

It was Ian’s day off, he was meeting Mandy for lunch and he was running late. He rushed in the door, spotted her at a table in the rear and hurried over,  
“Sorry I’m late. Something came up. You get my text”? 

“No problem,” she said smiling. 

“So, what’s up? How’re you doing”? 

She sipped her tea and smiled, “I’m good. Let’s order, then talk”. 

She signaled the waiter and they placed their orders. 

Ian knew exactly what she wanted to talk about, so he waited. 

She cleared her throat “So, you’re taking him back huh? Have you really thought about this Ian? You’ve been doing so well. Mickey is a fuck up and you know it. I just don’t wanna see all your hard work go down the drain. Sure, he acts all high and mighty now. Fancy designer clothes, badass truck and shit. He’s still Mickey, a fuck up. I don’t understand why you always let him fuck up your life, Ian. You got so much going for you. All he ever does is hurt you”. 

He studied her closely “And you wonder why Mickey doesn’t want a relationship with you Mandy”? 

Their lunch arrived causing Mandy to pause before answering. 

When they were alone again, she said contemptuously, 

“That’s his fault Ian, and you know it. He won’t even talk to me, won’t let you give me his fucking number. That’s not my fucking fault Ian. How can you sit there and blame me for that shit? Just to be crystal fucking clear, it was his own damn fault that he got locked up, not mine”. 

He sighed loudly “We’ve talked about this before and it’s clear we don’t agree. But, I gotta tell you, I understand how Mickey feels, and if you even tried to look at it from his perspective, you would too. As far as Mickey and me, I didn’t ask for your input, I certainly don’t need your permission, and I don’t want your fucking commentary. I just wanted you to know that we’re getting back, no matter what anyone has to say.” 

She glared at him “You were my friend first Ian. My best friend. You sneaked around with him behind my back. Mickey knew we were best friends, but that didn’t stop him either did it? And he wants to hold something against me? Fuck that”. 

He took a sip of water and considered what he was about to say, 

“Mandy I love you. Always have, always will. You have always been there for me during my worst times, and I’ve tried to be there for you. But I’m in love with Mickey. I have loved him since I was as kid. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. He is the most important person in the world to me. Without him I have nothing. He is my dream, I’ve always wanted to spend my life with him. Now that we finally have a chance to make a good life together, I’m not letting you, or my family fuck it up. Frankly Mandy, your brand of bullshit is getting old. We sneaked around back then because we had to. We couldn’t tell anyone. It was the fucking south side, Mandy. You were there, you know what would’ve happened if people found out. My family understood, but Mickey was scared. Scared for himself and scared for me. Your father and your brothers are all homicidal, homophobic assholes. You know this. What were we supposed to do huh”? 

She blinked back tears “I know that Ian. But it still hurts. You were mine first”. 

He was sick of having the same conversation over and over. He was sick of her. He sighed tiredly “I was your friend Mandy. We were just pretending that you were my girlfriend. You were my fucking beard, my friend, that’s all. Mickey was my lover. He didn’t take me away from you. I was never yours like that.  
I was in love with him. He was in love with me”. 

“Shit still hurts Ian. He’s gonna hurt you again. I know he is. You can’t make me believe he’s really changed. I know his ass. He’s my fucking brother, after all”. 

“Whatever. Not trying to make you believe anything Mandy. That’s always been one of my problems. Involving my family and you, too much in our life.  
Listening to unsolicited advice and taking it to heart. Acting on it when none of you have ever had a fucking stable relationship in your damn life.  
I won’t do it anymore. Promised Mickey it would be different this time, and I meant it. I’ll tell you like I told my family, you will treat him with respect, and  
I won’t tolerate you insulting him when you’re talking to me. Keep your damn feelings and comments to your damn self. If you don’t, I’m out. I’m gonna always choose him, Mandy”. 

She bristled “Fuck you about my relationships. You don’t know shit. You always take my side but now all that’s changed. Because of Mickey? Unbelievable.  
I know he’ll hurt you again. I just don’t understand why you don’t see that shit”. 

He wiped his mouth and laid his crumpled napkin down “See that right there. How do you know he hasn’t changed? Not that he even needed to.  
I was the one in the wrong. I abandoned him when he needed me the most. When I knew he didn’t have anybody, and you knew it too Mandy.  
I will spend the rest of my fucking life making that shit up to him. But I’m curious, why do you automatically assume he hasn’t changed? You don’t  
know his fucking life. You know what Mandy? When he refused to have a relationship with you, I thought he was wrong. I tried to make him change his mind.  
Thought he needed at least one damn sibling in his life. But over time I’ve come to understand that he is right. You are toxic to him, you and my family.  
You don’t mean him any good, Mandy. You’re jealous of him, and you should be fucking ashamed. I’ll tell you what, don’t contact me until you change your attitude. I will not sit and listen to you spout bullshit about him. I won’t tolerate it from my own damn family, and I won’t tolerate it from your ass. I’m done”. 

He stood, dropped some bills on the table and walked out. He didn’t look back. 

She sat there and stated at Ian’s empty chair for a long time. Well, Mickey finally turned him against me. She got up, counted the bills making sure there was enough for a decent tip and left the sandwich shop. 

She wondered why Mickey always came out on top? What did he ever do to deserve a rich lawyer for a friend?  
She got him out, let him live in her fucking mansion, gave him a badass truck, bought him clothes, fucking designer clothes, supported him while he went to school. Why? 

And he was holding a fucking grudge? Won’t have anything to do with his family, Iggy wants to see him, and all he has to say is, “I know how to find him”. 

The fuck does that even mean? Fucking asshole. Now he’s turned Ian against her. Had convinced him that she’s jealous. Well fuck them. Both of their asses.  
She’s always made her own way. Fuck you very much.


	14. Mickey Ties Up Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey tries to be gentle. Maybe too gentle? Either way, John is devastated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still looking back, providing context.

Mickey had been sitting on John’s sofa for over an hour trying to come up with the best way to tell the guy that it was over between them. 

He was on his second beer and still had no fucking clue. His only experience with relationships had been with Ian, and he had broken up with Mickey. 

He knows how hurt he had been, which made him feel shitty for putting John through the same thing. Damn. But what was he supposed to do? 

He loved Ian, and he promised him that they would try again. His future is with Ian. 

He and John had fucked a few times since the morning Mickey had thrown him out of his house. But his heart hadn’t been in it, his mind had been filled with thoughts of Ian the entire time. 

He thought back to the last time they fucked. They had just finished, and he was putting his clothes on to leave when he looked over at John. He had been struck by the look of profound sadness on the guy’s face. He begged Mickey not to go, to stay the night. 

There was no way he was going to stay, so he told him that he had a paper due. While that wasn’t a total lie, it wasn’t the reason he was leaving. He and Ian talked every night and Mickey didn’t want to miss his call. So, he left. 

While he was driving home that night, he decided to do the decent thing and break it off with him. Now here he was wanting to do the right thing, but at a loss as to how to go about it. 

John’s voice broke his reverie, he was asking him what he wanted for dinner. Shit. 

“Nah man I just stopped by for a quick minute. We need to talk”. 

John looked at him and swallowed nervously, 

“Sure Mickey, what’s up? Have I done something? Something wrong? Thought things were back to normal”. 

He knew that things hadn’t been normal since Mickey let Ian spend the night at his house. 

Mickey refused to talk about Ian, but he knew they had history. He stayed late at the office one night and pulled Mickey’s old case file out and read it again. 

Ian Gallagher was the reason Mickey went to prison. He was arrested for getting even with the stepsister for calling the MPs on Ian. 

His anger flared as he read Sara’s notes. Ian never visited Mickey, didn’t even take his fucking calls. No one visited him when he was locked up. 

Thinking back, he remembered that no one had returned any of the calls from their office. The team tried to contact people from Mickey’s past who might have information to help with the appeal, and as far as he knew, no one was even there for him the day he was released. 

He was able to piece the rest of it together. Ian Gallagher is the guy that hurt Mickey. He’s the reason Mickey didn’t want a serious relationship. 

He’s the reason Mickey won’t let him get too close. He’s the reason for that far-a-way look in Mickey’s eyes when he’s supposed to be thinking about him. 

He hated that look. He sees it more and more now. Whenever they’re together, ever since Ian decided to make an appearance back in Mickey’s life. 

Ian Gallagher is the reason Mickey gets up and leaves after they fuck, unless they’ve had a lot to drink and smoked a couple joints, and his ass is passed out. 

He’s the reason for it all. Ian Gallagher. The fucker just decides one day that he wants Mickey back, and he’s just gonna take his ass back? Just like that? 

What could he even say to make Mickey forgive him? 

He turned his damn back on Mickey, didn’t lift a finger to help him. What the fuck is wrong with Mickey? How could he even trust a guy like that? He’ll do it again. 

He decided that he’ll just have to make Mickey see that Ian Gallagher is not good enough for him. Make him understand that Ian will destroy him for sure this time. 

He would never hurt Mickey like that, and he was not going to hand his man over just because Ian Gallagher changed his fickle ass mind. He would not bow the fuck out gracefully. Hell no. He was going to fight. He would make leaving him as hard as he could make it for Mickey. 

He knew that Mickey had feelings for him. He’s been good to him and good for him. He was supportive, he takes care of him when Mickey lets him, the sex is amazing, they had been exclusive until Ian Gallagher popped the fuck back up. 

That had to count for something. It just had to. Why on earth would Mickey even consider going back to someone who had left him all alone at his darkest time? 

He would have to make Mickey see that he was just caught up in what he once had with Ian, what he thinks they had. 

It wasn’t even real, Ian proved that when he walked away from him. It’s all a fucking mirage. 

John was real, his love for Mickey is real. He didn’t understand Mickey’s fascination with Ian Gallagher, and he wouldn’t accept it. Hell no.

Mickey was chewing the inside of his cheek raw. He needed something stronger than beer to get through this shit. 

Should’ve just stuck to hookups, you fuck, pull your pants up, and walk the fuck away. One and done. Fucking done. 

He knew that John always kept a bottle of Jack in the house for him. He stood up, 

“Gonna make a drink. That ok? Want one”? 

He smiled “Good idea. Sit down Mickey, let me get it. You know I like taking care of you, my favorite thing is making sure you get what you need when we’re together”. 

Mickey sighed and sat back down. John did take good care of him. Always made him feel wanted, important, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. He liked the feeling, it was fucking intoxicating, if he was being honest.

John came back with the bottle and two glasses, placed everything on the coffee table and sat down next to Mickey, 

“Forgot to buy Coke”. 

Mickey smiled and poured healthy drinks for them both, 

“This is fine man. Thanks”. 

Mickey drank a third of his, took out his pack of cigarettes, lit two, and passed one to John. 

He only smoked with Mickey, and he didn’t allow anyone else to smoke in his house. Only his Mickey. 

He sat back and sipped his drink and tried to figure out the best way to approach him. He had to stop him from making a big mistake. 

He had to stop him from leaving. 

Mickey drained his glass and reached for the bottle. John smiled, maybe this night would end better than he had originally thought, 

“I’ve got some of that good weed you like. I’ll get it. Give me a sec”. 

Mickey laid his hand on his knee, 

“Hold on man. I came to talk to you. Gotta tell you something”. 

“We can get high while we talk right?” John asked, laughing nervously 

He rushed off to get the weed and Mickey went to the fridge for water. He set two waters on the coffee table, lit another cigarette, sat back and waited for John. 

He knows why I’m here. Shit. Shit. I hate this shit. But I told his ass from the beginning I didn’t want anything serious. Told him more than once, he went ahead and caught fucking feelings. Not my damn fault. He’s a grown ass man. Still fucking sucks though. Shit. Fuck me.

John sat back down and rolled a joint. He fired it up and passed it to Mickey. They sat there quietly smoking and drinking. 

Pretty soon, he moved closer and placed his hand high up on Mickey’s thigh. Mickey sat up and picked the hand up and held it, 

“John you know why I’m here. I know you do. I’m sorry man…” 

Before he could finish, John snatched his hand away, 

“Don’t say it Mickey. Please don’t say it. Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t say it. I can’t hear it. I won’t, I can’t. Please Mickey”. 

He sighed heavily “Yes. You’ve been good to me. Better than I deserve. But I’m in love with someone else. I’ve loved him as far back as I can remember man. He’s one of the few people I ever loved. I’m sorry. So sorry. I never meant to hurt you”. 

He was sobbing “Mickey. Mickey. You’re my life. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Nobody can love you better than me. You can’t leave me like this. I really love you Mickey. This is not happening. Can’t be happening”. 

Mickey took a deep breath, lit another cigarette and passed it to John, 

“I love him. I just love him man. He wants us to try again. I gotta see if we can make it work this time. Told him we would try again”. 

John blew his nose with a tissue, 

“Where the fuck has he been all this time? Where was he when you were locked up? Why wasn’t he there for your trial? He didn’t even try to help you. Where was he then Mickey? I worked on your case, I know that nobody helped you. He didn’t even visit you and now he wants you back? Mickey think about what you’re doing. He’ll leave you again. You gotta know he will. You can’t trust him”. 

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. I just love him John. He’s what I want. Always been that way man. Don’t know what else to say”. 

John wasn’t done “Why can’t we still see each other? You haven’t decided yet, you’re not sure. I can tell. He can’t just pop up and take you away from me. That’s not right Mickey. Give me a chance too. An equal chance”. 

Mickey sipped his drink and rolled a fatter joint. This was not going well at all. He fired up the joint, took two tokes and passed it to John. They smoked in silence for a while. 

John stopped crying, moved closer to Mickey and took his hand, 

“Why are you even giving him another chance Mickey? Why are you risking what we have for a guy who already hurt you”? 

Mickey had that look in his eyes again, that look John hated. 

“I told you, I love him man. What can I do? He’s it for me. He’s all I ever wanted”. 

John took a sip of his drink, he was getting mad. Fuck Ian Gallagher. He glared at Mickey, 

“Is he the reason I can’t call you ‘Mick’? Why I can’t call you ‘baby’? Why I can only call you ‘Mickey’? Those names are reserved for him huh, Mickey?  
For his personal use”? 

Mickey met his gaze “Yes”. 

John felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal “So I never had a fucking chance anyway did I ‘Mick’? It was always gonna be him. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to make you happy. He just shows up out of the fucking blue and poof you’re gone. That how it works ‘Mick’? 

Mickey supposed that he had every right to be mad, but he was getting impatient, this shit was working his fucking nerves. He didn’t know what else to say. 

He turned to face him, “John I told you when we started that I wasn’t looking for anything serious. Told you that more than once. It’s not like I deceived you or some shit. You knew where I stood. You said you understood. So, don’t sit there pretending we had a fucking commitment for the future. You know we didn’t”. 

He was crying quietly “I know what you said Mickey. I know I agreed, but after we lasted for a while, I thought we had a real chance. We’re so good together.  
So fucking good. We didn’t see other people, it never even came up. I thought we were solid, on the way to something better. Then he shows up”. 

“But I told you how it was for me. You chose to read more into it, John. What do you want me to say? I’m at a loss here man”. 

He moaned as he leaned over and captured Mickey’s bottom lip and sucked on it. He ran his hand slowly along the inside of Mickey’s thigh and rubbed his dick. 

Mickey knew he should get up and leave. But he didn’t, he didn’t want to. 

He unzipped Mickey’s jeans and freed his dick. He was already hard, pre-cum glistening on the head of his dick. 

John smiled to himself as he got on his knees in front of Mickey and inhaled his dick. 

Mickey knew he should stop him, he was supposed to be breaking up with the guy, and here he was getting his dick sucked. But the guy gave amazing head. 

Dude was sucking his dick like it was his damn job. 

He closed his eyes and groaned loudly, spreading his legs wider and raising his hips to get closer. 

He was smearing pre-cum around with his tongue and greedily lapping it up while he massaged Mickey’s balls. Mickey’s hips were bucking uncontrollably 

“Shit, shit. John so good man. Shit”. 

Mickey came with a shout and John swallowed every bit and licked his lips. Mickey was slumped on the sofa, his head lolling back as he tried to catch his breath. 

John wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and crawled onto Mickey’s lap placing small kisses along his neck, stroking his own dick through his sweats. 

Mickey looked at him with hooded eyes, 

“Man, this won’t change anything. I should go”. 

“Don’t go Mickey. Stay. Please stay”. 

He lifted John off his lap, grabbed a handful of tissues to clean himself, and tucked his dick in his pants. 

He lit two cigarettes and gave one to John, 

“That was so good man. Damn”. 

He almost said he was gonna miss it but thought better of it. 

John gave what he believed to be his most seductive smile as he took the cigarette, 

“Need to catch your breath before I hit that sweet ass huh? It’s ok, it’s still early. Got a couple rounds for you”. 

Mickey exhaled smoke through his nostrils, 

“Nah man. Gonna get going. Getting late, gotta study for a while. Just wanted you to know what’s going on with me”. 

John had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, 

“Ok then. Call you tomorrow”? 

“John, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can’t see you anymore. This is it man”. 

“So that was mercy sex? Let me suck your dick one last time and that’s it huh Mickey? Let me down easy, that how it is”? 

Ian’s face flashed in Mickey’s mind. He pushed the tiny twinge of guilt down. He didn’t really know what Ian was doing. He said he had broken up with Trevor, but that was on him. Mickey hadn’t asked him to do that. 

They were still talking shit over, they hadn’t even fucked yet. Plus, Ian had never asked him about John, never even asked his name. 

But he did feel bad about what he just did with John. This shit is so fucked up. I shouldn’t have let that happen. But he wanted to, and I wanted to. 

Was it unfair to him? Fuck, I don’t fucking know. I gotta get out of here so I can fucking think. 

He took a deep breath and turned to John, 

“That’s not what I meant. I wanted it and you wanted it. That’s all it meant. Beyond that I don’t know what to say to you man”. 

“Mickey can’t you just stay with me tonight? Hold each other while we sleep? We never did that. The few times we spent the night we never held each while we slept. Just for tonight?”. 

Mickey picked up his phone and stood up. Fuck he had missed Ian’s call. Shit. 

As he was reaching for his cigarettes, he noticed John looking at his phone. 

He snapped “Missed Ian’s call? Keeping you on a short leash huh? Gonna tell him I was sucking your dick when he called? That I was trying to get up in that sweet, tight ass? You gonna tell him the truth Mickey? Think he’ll still want to try again when you tell him that shit? Gonna tell him how you came down my throat? How good it was? How loud you shouted? Gonna tell him you’re so committed to him that you didn’t even try to stop me? That your damn dick was fucking rock hard before I even touched it? What’s he gonna think about all that shit Mick? Your precious Ian.  
Go ahead let’s call him, see what the asshole says”. 

Mickey sat back down and faced him, 

“Are you threatening me right now John? That what you think you’re doing”? 

He was mad, and he didn’t give a fuck “I say let’s call his ass. Let’s see how much he loves you. See if he’s understanding. See just how bad he wants that ass back. Shouldn’t be a problem after the way he treated it, the way he walked the fuck off and left it. Call him. He’s knows how sweet that ass is, I’m sure he’ll understand why I just had to suck that dick real good for you. He’ll understand. We can compare notes about that ass. I can tell him what you like, in case he forgot. You know, when he walked away from you and that ass. Remember? When he didn’t want you or that ass no more. Remember that shit Mickey?  
That was him, Ian Gallagher. He left your ass”. 

Mickey thumbed his bottom lip, 

“I get it. You’re hurt. That’s the only reason I’m not kicking your ass right now. But know this, I don’t take kindly to threats John. Never have.  
See you don’t really know me. I’m gonna leave now. You don’t wanna fuck with me. I don’t give a fuck how hurt you are, you don’t wanna fuck with me.  
And you really don’t wanna fuck with Ian. It’ll end badly for you man”. 

He got up and walked out making sure not to slam the door. 

He didn’t take John’s threat seriously. Wasn’t really a threat. He’s just hurt and he’s mad. Grasping at straws and shit. 

But should he tell Ian what he had done? Just in case John did contact him? 

No, he wouldn’t tell Ian anything. It wasn’t his damn business. If he did contact him, they’d just have to deal with it. 

The more he thought about it, he decided he couldn’t be too mad at him. The guy had been good to him, and he really did like him, but he was loved Ian. 

John just didn’t want to lose him, and he was fighting the only way he knew how. Said he wanted an equal chance. 

Could he even consider that shit? Two guys competing for him? How would Ian feel about that shit? 

He said he would do anything to get him back. Nah, that shit wouldn’t work. 

If he was gonna try with Ian, he had to be all in. 

This was all new for him. Two fucking guys in love with him. 

John was hurt because Mickey was leaving him. 

Nah, he wasn’t mad at all. 

But he wouldn’t see him again and he wouldn’t take his calls. Time to cut all ties. Even if he and Ian don’t get back together, he didn’t want a future with John. 

It would be cruel for Mickey to string him along now that he knows for sure how the guy feels. Too much damn drama. Fuck relationships.

When he got home, he opened a beer and sat on the deck to call Ian. 

He answered on the first ring, “Hey Mick. What’s going on? Studying hard”? 

He could hear the smile in Ian’s voice, causing him to smile, 

“Nah man. Just got in. What’s up with you? How was your shift? How many lives did you save tough guy”? 

They talked for two hours and made plans to eat at Ian’s apartment tomorrow night. 

“I’ll pick up beer. Want me to bring anything else? We doing carryout or what”? 

“Probably carry out. That ok”? 

“Yeah. We can decide when I get there. What time do you want me?”. 

“I want you all the time Mick. Just so you know. I get off at 5. Come when you get ready”. 

“Ok. See you tomorrow. Love you Ian”. 

That’s the first time Mickey said that since they started talking about getting back together. 

Ian gasped and whispered, “I love you too Mickey. Very much. See you soon”. 

“See you soon Ian”. 

Mickey was smiling when he disconnected the call. His future was with Ian. He didn’t think about John for the rest of the night.


	15. An Unwanted Visitor and A Declined Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian's apartment is busy. People really should call before they drop by on a whim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the past, providing context.

The next evening, Ian was grinning as he held the door open “Hey Mick. Come on in”. 

Mickey walked in smiling, holding a grocery bag in each hand “What up princess”? 

He walked into the kitchen and set the bags on the counter. 

Ian followed after him laughing “What’s all that? I thought you were just bringing beer. You planning on cooking or something”? 

“Nah. Just some snacks, shit like that”. 

Ian started removing items from the bags “Chips, dip, apples, oranges, steaks, bacon, eggs, beer, pasta, sauce, onions, celery, Asparagus, smoked turkey, pancake mix, syrup, bread, and here we go, beer”. 

Mickey had been putting stuff in the fridge as Ian took it out of the bags. 

Ian stood there regarding him curiously, 

“You thought I needed groceries Mick? I was going shopping tomorrow. It’s my day off. But thank you. Appreciate it”. 

He smiled sheepishly “I didn’t know what you had. Figured we’d need food if I was gonna stay a few days”. 

“You’re gonna stay a few days? Really Mickey? You’re gonna stay here with me”? 

“Well, you said you had a long weekend. Thought I’d spend it with you. Should’ve asked first”. 

Ian walked over and took Mickey’s face in his hands,   
“You don’t ever have to ask Mickey. I’m glad you’re gonna stay. It’ll be the best long weekend ever. I’m so glad you’re gonna stay over”. 

He kissed Mickey softly and hugged him tight. 

After they put the food away Ian grabbed the takeout menus, Mickey opened beers, and they sat at the kitchen table to decide what they wanted for dinner tonight. 

Mickey wanted pizza and Ian wanted Lo Mein. They ordered both. 

They sat on the sofa talking about school while they waited for the food. 

There was a knock at the door and Mickey looked at the door in amazement, 

“The fuck? They make pizza and Chinese food on the floor under you or something? They can’t be here that damn fast”. 

Ian shrugged as he walked to the door “Can’t be our food, but I’m not expecting anyone else”. 

He checked the peep hole before opening the door. Shit. Fuck. Trevor. Why is he here? Shit. 

He opened the door, “Trevor? What are you doing here”? 

Trevor stood there smiling “I was in the neighborhood so…..”. 

“You should’ve called first. Mickey’s here. Come in, I guess,” Ian said frowning. 

He hesitated “No. I don’t want to intrude. Sorry. You’re right should’ve called first”. 

Ian didn’t quite know how to handle this “Well come on in. You’re here now”. 

Mickey took his shoes off when he heard Trevor’s name. He was sitting with his feet propped up on the coffee table, flipping through Ian’s certification manual. 

He looked up when Trevor walked in. Ian cleared his throat “Mickey this is Trevor. Trevor, Mickey”. 

Trevor walked further into the room and paused as if he expected Mickey to stand. “Nice to meet you Mickey. Heard a lot about you”. 

Mickey inclined his head “Hey man” and went back to the manual. 

Ian was trying hard not to laugh, he knew that Mickey had been wearing his shoes when he went to answer the door. 

He was aware of Trevor’s discomfort, the guy hated to be ignored. 

He closed the door and said, “We’re waiting for our food. You wanna sit down? What did you need”? 

Trevor just stood there, eyes locked on Mickey who was totally ignoring him. Just as Ian was about to ask again what he needed, there was another knock at the door. 

Mickey looked up at Trevor and smirked “Gotta be our food this time”. 

Ian did laugh this time as he opened the door for the pizza delivery guy, he paid and closed the door. Mickey had already gotten up, he took the pizza and sauntered off to the kitchen, never sparing Trevor a glance. 

Trevor was angry, this is the fool Ian left him for? Who the fuck does this convict think he is? Needs to learn some fucking manners. 

Ian tried again “Trevor why are you here”? 

He remembered that he hadn’t been invited “Yeah, I was nearby checking on a building. Just thought I’d stop by. Haven’t seen you in a while. Wanted to make sure you were ok”. 

Before Ian could answer, Mickey sauntered back in with a beer and took his seat on the sofa, propping his feet back up and said, 

“Chinese should be here soon. Probably on the way up now. Was gonna bring the pizza out but…,” he gave Trevor a pointed looked, quirking his eyebrows. 

Ian studied the floor and Trevor cleared his throat, but before he could speak there was another knock at the door. 

Mickey looked up “Busy place you got here Gallagher. It like this all the time man”? 

Ian laughed loudly “No. First time ever Mick”. 

Mickey got up and sauntered to the door, stopping in front of Trevor, 

“Let me get that man”. 

Trevor moved over so Mickey could open the door, although Mickey could’ve walked around him. 

Mickey took the order, paid the guy, and left the door standing open when he sauntered off to the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, 

“Shit, this smells good. Shame for it to get cold Ian”. 

Ian didn’t try to stifle his laughter “Be right there, Mick”. 

He looked at Trevor “I’m fine Trevor. Thanks for checking on me. Maybe call next time”? 

Trevor glared at him “Sure. Right. I’ll call next time. Sorry I bothered you”. 

He left in a huff, and Ian closed the door. 

Mickey was laughing so hard he was doubled over. Ian took one look at him and before long he was doubled over laughing too. 

They had to warm their dinner in the microwave when they finally stopped laughing enough to be able to eat. 

Mickey had a mouthful of pizza when Ian leaned over and kissed his grease smeared lips, “I’m so glad you’re here, Mickey. I missed you so damn much.  
Missed everything about you”. 

After he swallowed, Mickey smiled happily “I’m glad to be here. I missed you too Ian. Everyday. Every damn day I missed you”. 

After they put everything away, they curled up together on the couch and fell asleep in front of the TV. 

Mickey’s phone woke them up. He picked it up. John. He had deleted his contact information, but he recognized the number. 

He declined the call, wondering if he’d have to block the number. Ian was studying him intently “Anyone important”? 

Mickey smiled at him “Not anymore”. 

Ian beamed and snuggled deeper into his chest. 

Mickey wrapped his arms tightly around him, kissing the top of his head “I love you man. Always and forever”. 

Ian kissed his neck “Love you too. You are my one and only love Mickey. Wanna spend the rest of my life with you. I’ll be so good to you. No more fuck ups”. 

Mickey spoke softly “Just you and me. Us. Really think we can make it work this time? No more chances after this Ian. Hurts too bad.” 

“We’ll make it work Mick. We’ve loved each other for most of our lives. I will always choose you over everyone else. Just like you’ve always chosen me.   
I know we can make it work”. 

He took Ian’s face in his hands and looked deeply into those beautiful green eyes that he loved so much, that he had missed so much, 

“Ok. Let’s give it a shot. For keeps this time”.

“For keeps this time Mickey”. They sealed it with a long, sweet kiss.


	16. Starting Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey takes advantage of an opportunity. Ian is looking for the perfect apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the past.

They were sitting on the sofa at Mickey’s house, Ian at one end scrolling through apartment rentals, and Mickey at the other end studying for an exam. They spent every night together now, alternating between Ian’s apartment and Mickey’s house. 

Ian closed his laptop with a sigh, he hadn’t found that perfect apartment yet. He needed a beer, Mickey probably did too, he looked stressed out. 

He got the beers from the seemingly never-ending supply in the fridge. It always amazed him that Sara’s cook automatically shopped for Mickey,  
he didn’t have to do shit. Just as he was about to sit back down, there was a knock on the door. 

He looked over at Mickey “You expecting company?” 

He closed his book and stood up “Nah. Probably Sara”. 

He walked over and opened the door smiling when he saw her. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, 

“Hey, come on in. You hungry? I can fix you something. Ian’s here”.

She walked in laughing “Hey Mick. Why are you always trying to feed me? Hey Ian”. 

She walked over to where Ian was standing, and he leaned down and kissed her cheek, “Hey Sara. Good to see you. Let me get you a beer”. 

“Thanks” she said, hanging her jacket on the back of the chair. 

Mickey smirked “I try to feed you because you’re fucking skinny. Somebody gotta look out for you. I’m gonna make sandwiches. Got that honey smoked turkey you like so damn much. Stopped in to holler at Mr. Russo today and he sent you some. He said cook hadn’t been in to shop for the week yet, and he didn’t want to sell out before you got some. I tried to tell him his goal should be to sell out of shit, crazy fuck told me that I was studying so hard I was missing the whole neighborhood grocer concept. Guess he’s got a point. He’s got this neighborhood locked down. Whole Foods is only two blocks over, but he’s always got customers browsing about and shit, talking about the weather, whose kid is graduating, playing soccer, he knows all kinds of shit about their families. Hell, he knows shit about me. Remembers everything I ever told him”. 

Sara smiled proudly “You are part of this neighborhood Mickey. This is your home”. 

He smiled bashfully and went to the kitchen to start the sandwiches. Ian had been watching the exchange silently. He was so happy for Mickey, he was finally getting the chance to become the man he was always meant to be. 

He had always known that there was so much more to Mickey, he’d just been afraid to show it. He had to make people afraid of him if he wanted to survive his own damn family, survive the south side. He had to uphold the family tradition of fear and intimidation. 

He never had a chance to explore his personality, find out who he really was, what he wanted to do with his life. His only goals had been to live for another day and to take care of Mandy as best he could. 

Ian was glad he had Sara, glad she loved him unconditionally. She had opened the world up to him, showed him what was possible. He was making a future for himself and he was letting Ian be part of that future. After all he had done to hurt him, Mickey had still forgiven him, wanted him back. Wanted him to be part of his life. 

“The hospital gala is next month Mick. Remember it from last year?” Sara asked as she sipped her beer. 

“Sure. Wasn’t so bad. We going again this year”? 

“Yes. But I’ll have two escorts this year”. 

Mickey quirked an eyebrow “Got a date or something pretty lady”? 

She blushed. He loved making her blush. “I have two, thank you very much”. 

Ian was smiling as he listened to Mickey talk about attending a fucking gala like it was no big deal. 

Mickey chuckled “Me and who else? That lawyer guy Ashton that’s been trying to get with you for forever? What changed your mind about him? 

Just so you know, I still got my doubts. Just something about the dude. But it’s alright, I’ll be there to keep my eye on his ass”. 

She laughed loudly “No. Not him. Your feelings about him are duly noted, my friend”. 

She looked over at Ian and winked “I’m thinking Ian. You and Ian”. 

Ian stared at her in shock, mouth hanging open. 

Mickey laughed “Close your mouth princess”. 

He closed his mouth, looked from Sara to Mickey, all he could manage was “Me”? 

She smiled smugly “Yes Ian. You will escort me along with Mickey. This event is very important to me, it’s for the community hospital. They serve the south side, their programs are designed specifically for that population. Mickey will take you to my tailor, get you sorted out. You’ll enjoy yourself. Mickey has met most of the people, he’ll introduce you around”. 

Ian swallowed noisily “I can’t let you buy me a tux Sara. I’ll work some overtime. It’s not until next month, right? Plenty of time for me to clock some extra hours. Yeah, I can do that. Thank you for inviting me. I’d love to be one of your escorts”.

Mickey brought everything to the table on a tray and winked at Ian, 

“This is right down your alley huh princess? Always been a fucking social butterfly”. 

Ian rolled his eyes and passed the potato salad to Sara. 

When they had their food Sara looked over at him, “You will go to my tailor with Mickey. I can afford it, you can’t. Aren’t you studying for the paramedic certification? It’ll take you more than a few shifts to earn the money. Time you need to spend studying. Every man needs a well, tailored tux Ian. You will be dashing, just like Mickey. We will enjoy ourselves while doing our civic duty. Plus, I’ll be the talk of the town. Everyone will wonder about the two handsome 

young men on my arm. It’ll be great. Simple”

Mickey was laughing now, 

“Man, just go with it. When she says ‘simple’ that’s the end of it”.

Ian’s eyes were glistening as he looked at her and whispered, “Thank you so much Sara”. 

She leaned over and kissed his cheek “My pleasure Ian. My pleasure”. 

She cleared her throat and looked over at Mickey, 

“I’ve arranged for you to spend a few minutes with the hospital administrator while we’re there Mickey. He’s looking to merge hospital security with 

transportation services. He thinks they should expand transportation, reach more people. I agree. I’ve always advocated for serving as many people as possible. Think you might be interested in heading up something like that”? 

It was Mickey’s turn to stare at her in shock. Ian snickered “Close your mouth princess”. 

She loved spending time with them, they were so cute, and so much in love. Mickey took a large gulp of his beer. The fuck? 

“Sara they can’t hire me to be in charge of shit. What about my record? I’m an ex-con fucks sake”. 

She narrowed her eyes “Mickey you are a person with an unfortunate past. You are working to build a better future for yourself. You're working on your degree, and doing very well, I might add. You have a viable support system, roots in your community, and you grew up in the community 

you will be serving. You know what they need, and you know how to reach them. You have what is called ‘unique insight’. I bet you’re already thinking of 

things you can do. Things that may work. You are very smart Mickey, and you are committed. The hospital will be lucky to have you. I have no doubt you’ll be successful, no matter what you choose to do. Back in the day people would say ‘you’re that guy’”.

He swiped at a lone tear, “Why do you have such faith in me? I’m nothing special. I just don’t understand it. You always fight so damn hard for me. Never ask for anything in return. Why?”.

She took his hand in hers and squeezed “You’re very special to me Mickey. I have always believed in you, since the day I met you in that horrible prison. Your friendship means the world to me. You are an extraordinary person and I’m glad you’re in my life, proud to call you friend. I love you Mickey. I will always behere for you. Always do my best to help you, make your path smoother. You’re worth it”.

When she finished talking, all three of them were wiping tears away. 

Ian was the first to recover, “Well then princess, guess you got some heavy thinking to do, and some researching. Gotta bowl that administrator over with your innovative ideas”. 

Mickey smiled gratefully “Guess you’re right. Thank you, Sara. I love you very much”. 

She patted her eyes with a tissue “You’re welcome Mickey. One other thing, don’t concern yourself with your record. As I said, I arranged for you to talk to him”. 

He looked at her, understanding what she was saying, he simply nodded. Ian understood too, he rubbed his hands together briskly, 

“Well alright then, it’s settled”. 

They finished eating with Ian telling them all about his apartment search. 

The gala was a huge success. Mickey was offered the position and he accepted. Ian kept reminding him that this wasn’t just a job, it was a position. 

His business cards read, 

Mickey Milkovich

Manager, Hospital Security and Transportation Outreach Services.

He even had letterhead with his fucking name and title on it. 

No one stood over him, telling him what to do. He reported directly to the hospital administrator. He, Mickey Milkovich, was a fucking department head. 

He was in charge of this shit. He told his staff what he wanted done and how he wanted it done. They liked his laid-back attitude, but they understood that he expected them to do their jobs. His door was always open to them, and they knew that he really listened to their complaints and suggestions. 

He figured, hell they’re out there doing the job, they gotta have some valuable input.

He especially liked that he wasn’t stuck at his desk all day. He met with community groups, area hospitals, and with big shots downtown. He wore dress shirts and ties, and nice slacks every day. 

He had his clothes fucking dry cleaned. He hadn’t even known what dry cleaning really consisted of until he met Sara. Now they knew his fucking name at the local dry cleaners. He was a regular fucking customer. 

He laughed to himself. He was making something of himself. He had a fucking life. A fucking future. And he was just getting started. Kiss my gay ass Terry.


	17. Sibling Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no doubt where Mickey stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the past.

Mickey parked his truck and got out. He had almost an hour to kill before his meeting at the community center, so he decided to have a cup of coffee at the 

corner deli while he waited. He was walking to a booth with his tray when he heard Mandy call his name, she was sitting alone in a near-by booth.

He looked over at her and spoke quietly, 

“Hey Mandy. What up?” 

She snarked “What, you can’t come sit with your sister? Too fucking fancy now”? 

He slowly stirred his coffee. Should’ve stayed in the fucking truck. He looked up at her 

“Didn’t know if you’re with somebody Mandy”. 

She got up in a huff and brought her tray to Mickey’s table and sat down, 

“Saw you get out of that truck. Escalade ain’t it? How you afford something like that Mickey? What kinda shit you into”? 

He sipped his coffee and sat back, not bothering to respond. She eyed him with contempt, 

“Ian told me about your rich lady lawyer. You bi now or something? Fucking her too? Still keeping Ian hanging on though”. 

He thumbed his bottom lip “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’m straight up gay Mandy”. 

She was fuming “Why haven’t you tried to find me? I know Ian told you I wanted to see you. You got brothers that wanna see you. Well, Iggy does. The others, not so much. You didn’t even let me know you were out. Had to hear it from Ian, and he said you didn’t even let him know right away. He said you had been out a long time before you showed up in your fancy ass truck. You too good for us now? I’m your fucking baby sister Mickey. You used to always look out for me. Now you get with some rich bitch and act like I don’t even exist”. 

He could tell that she was hurt as well as mad. And he really didn’t give a fuck. He took a sip of his coffee, leaned back and folded his arms, 

“Yeah Mandy I always tried to take care of you. Might not have been much, but I did my fucking best. What did you do for me when I needed you? What the fuck did you do for me then, little sister? Seems like you forgot that my ass existed. You kept on living your shitty little life. Why the fuck would I let you know I was out? You didn’t fucking care about me when I was locked up, when I really needed someone. Fuck you and fuck Iggy. That’s where I’m at Mandy”. 

She swiped at her tears angrily “That’s not fair Mickey. I was just a kid. Nobody told you to fuck with that bitch Samantha. Anyway, that was Ian’s half-sister you tried to kill. His fucking family, Mickey. How you gonna hold that shit against me? We’re family. That means something down here. I don’t give a fuck how you’re living now, you still came from here. Family means something down here”. 

He smirked as he gathered his tray “Family don’t mean shit to me Mandy. Not anymore. I took ass beatings from Terry for all y’all low life shitheads. Took the blame for shit I would never be fucking dumb enough to do. I did it to protect y’all, mostly you and Iggy with his dumb ass. I thought family meant something then. You Mandy, you and brother Iggy let me know how fucking wrong I was. Fuck you Mandy. That’s all I got for you little sister”. 

He got up, emptied his tray and walked out without a backward glance.


	18. An Encounter of the Violent Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit, badass Terry Milkovich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the past.  
Homophobic slurs  
Some violence, nothing too graphic

Kevin looked up when Ian and Mickey walked in, 

“Mickey fucking Milkovich. Is that really you man? Heard you got out. Come on over here man. Still Jack and coke? Glad to see you. V stepped out. She’ll be glad to see you. Where the fuck you been man? Heard you been out a while”. 

Mickey laughed as he sat on a bar stool and reached for his drink, 

“Thanks man. Glad to see you too with your big ass mouth”. 

Ian slid onto the stool next to him, laughing at them. Kevin grinned at Ian, 

“What you having man? Glad you brought him in”. 

Ian chuckled “I’ll take a beer, Kev. Thanks”. 

Kevin set a beer in front of Ian, and another Jack and coke in front of Mickey. “Drinks on the house for y’all today”. 

Mickey laughed “If I had known that I shit I would’ve come in sooner”. 

Ian sipped his beer and laughed “Hell, I would’ve brought you in sooner”. 

Kevin laughed heartily, between customers and polishing glasses with a dingy towel, they caught him up on the status of their relationship, he told them about his girls. 

Mickey was asking about some of the regulars when Kevin abruptly halted his commentary, “Oh shit”. 

Mickey had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and Ian instinctively knew that Terry had walked in. 

Terry and the two guys with him sat at a corner table facing the bar. Kevin snatched up his bar towel and nervously wiped the spot in front of him, 

“Be right with you fellas”. 

Terry said “Beers for us Kev. For now”. 

Kevin took a deep breath “Sure thing Terry”. 

Ian whispered, “What’re we gonna do Mick”? 

He thumbed his bottom lip, “Gonna kick his ass if he fucks with us. You’re gonna stay the fuck out of it. Not gonna have him putting his fucking hands on you again. My fight Ian. I mean it”. 

Ian was indignant “Fuck you Mickey. Your fight, my fight. Let’s just hope he leaves us alone”. 

“Well, we ain’t fucking running. No more hiding from that fucking prick”. 

Kevin cast a worried glance at Ian and Mickey as he walked past them with the beers for Terry’s table. 

Before Kevin could make it back to the bar, Terry hollered, 

“Hey Red. Is that my faggot ass son over there with you? The ass digging son of a bitch. Heard his ass was out. Didn’t hear it from his chickenshit ass though. What, he come back for your pansy red ass”? 

Kevin did not want to be bothered with Terry’s maniac ass, he thought he should intervene, 

“Don’t start that shit in here Terry. Finish your damn drink and go”. 

Mickey tensed up, but he didn’t say a word. He noticed Ian’s leg shaking and placed a hand on his knee. 

Ian smiled “I’m fine Mick. All good”. 

Mickey nodded and winked at him. 

Terry said loudly “Iggy, boy go get you brothers. I know they wanna see their faggot ass brother. Got a score to settle with his faggot ass”. 

Mickey couldn’t hear what Iggy said, but he heard the slap Terry gave him, 

“I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion, you dumb ass fuck. Get your ass outta here and do what I told you, boy, before I beat your fucking ass”. 

Mickey heard Iggy get up and leave. He didn’t turn around. He thought back to all the times he stood up to Terry for Iggy, for all his siblings. He had taken the verbal abuse, the beatings. Not anymore. Ian was his family, Ian was who he would protect. 

Terry said menacingly “Boy, come on back here. You just gonna sit there like I ain’t nothing? Just gonna ignore my ass? Get you fucking faggot ass back here. Sitting over there touching that fucking faggot in public. Don’t make me say it again. Get your fucking ass back here”. 

Kevin slammed the bar with his fist, 

“Terry, time for you to go goddamn it. I’m not gonna let you tear up my damn bar man. Get out or I call the police”. 

Terry snarled “I ain’t going no damn where, I’m a paying customer. Same as all these other fucks in here. Or is this a faggot bar now? Only cater to fags, like those two ass diggers”? 

“I cater to all decent patrons. Watch your fucking mouth man,” Kevin snapped. 

Ian’s leg had stopped shaking, and Mickey felt a dangerous vibe coming off him. 

Terry lurched up, kicking the table and its contents to the floor and bellowed, 

“Boy, I told you to get the fuck over here”. 

Mickey knew that Kevin used to keep a wooden bat behind the bar, at the end Mickey was sitting at now. He hoped it was still there. 

Before Terry could reach him, he had hopped over the bar and grabbed the bat. He hopped back over, and gripping it with both hands, he swung the bat at Terry’s ugly, despicable face, a face he hated. 

He hit him just below the ear, breaking his jaw. He grinned at the sound of crunching bone, a sound he knew well. Terry had introduced him to it when he was just a little kid. He had broken bones on Mickey’s body time and time again over the years. Now Mickey was doing the fucking breaking. 

Terry grabbed his jaw and howled like a wounded animal. He must have bitten his tongue, jaw, or some shit, because blood was gushing from his mouth. 

He lunged, and Mickey was ready for him. He hit him just below the sternum, knocking the wind out of him. 

His knees buckled, and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. Mickey stood looking down at him, grinning viciously. 

Ian had jumped over the bar and grabbed Kevin’s shotgun. 

When Terry’s friends stood up, Ian racked it and spoke with deadly calm, 

“Back the fuck up. I will kill you. Take one more fucking step. I want you to. Come on”. 

Both men looked at him and stepped back. Everyone that came to the Alibi on a regular basis knew that Kevin kept that shotgun loaded. Terry’s friends were not going to die for him, they took another couple steps back for good measure. 

Just then the door swung open and Iggy rushed in with Joey and Jamie. 

They were horrified to find their father writhing on the floor, face covered in blood, clutching his face, while Mickey stood over him holding a bat. 

Joey said, “Oh hell no. I will kill your faggot ass,” as he started toward them. 

He hadn’t noticed Ian standing there with the shotgun until he said, 

“I will kill you first. Take another step. Go on, try me bitch”. 

Joey looked over at Ian for the first time, and abruptly stopped. There was something about Ian in that moment that made Joey believe him.  
Plus, he had heard somewhere that Ian was a crack shot. He was in ROTC back when he was in school, or some shit. He made a snap decision that he wasn’t going to die for Terry, even if he is his father. Fuck that.

Jamie and Iggy hadn’t moved, they saw Ian when they walked in. 

Jamie found his voice, “So you’re just gonna let Mickey kill him. Make us watch? That your fucking plan”? 

Ian laughed mirthlessly “Who do you think you’re fooling asshole? You don’t give a fuck about Terry’s evil ass. You’re all just scared of him and you know it. The whole fucking south side knows that shit. All of you sorry motherfuckers stood around and watched him beat the shit out of Mickey day after day. So, yeah. Watch this shit. And shut the fuck up. Didn’t have nothing to say then with your punk asses. Fucking pussies. Fucking bullies, that’s all you ever been, all of y’all”. 

Mickey looked over at him, “Ian calm down baby. I’m alright. You good”? 

He gave a curt nod “Yeah Mickey I’m good. Just sick of this shit. Been sick of your fucking brothers for a long damn time. Fucking cowards. Let that psychotic asshole tell them how to live, what to fucking think, what to do. And they got a fucking problem with you? Fuck all of them. Far as I’m concerned, we can bury all their bitch asses in the same damn ditch. Save some fucking dirt. Handle your business Mick. I got you”. 

Iggy didn’t know what to do. He knew that Ian was bipolar, but he didn’t really know what that meant in this situation, with him holding a fucking loaded gun on them. Daring them to take a step. Fuck. He tried to tell Terry to leave them alone, and Terry back handed him. 

He decided to try to reason with Ian, because no way was he getting shot for Terry’s evil, lunatic ass. 

He cleared his throat, “Wait a fucking min…….,” he began with a shaky voice. 

Ian spoke in that same deadly calm voice, 

“I said shut the fuck up bitch. Say another fucking word and I’ll blow your sorry ass right back through the damn door. Try me”. 

Kevin hollered “Just shut the fuck up like he told you. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP. That shit is loaded in case you’re wondering, and he can do exactly what he said.  
You fucking stupid assholes. Should’ve left them the fuck alone. Told fucking Terry to fucking Terry to leave. No, he wanted to fuck with them with his ignorant ass. Now we got this shit. Fucking dumbasses”. 

Terry stirred, and Mickey looked down at him,  
“Ready to go again asshole? Wanna beat the gay outta me daddy? Stand up motherfucker so I can kill your miserable ass. Fucking homophobic maniac. Get the fuck up”. 

He grabbed Terry’s arm and hauled him up. 

With as much venom as he could muster, Terry said, “I’ll kill you. Fuck you think you are, you little faggot”? 

When he drew back Mickey caught his arm and spun him around and cracked him in the lower back. 

Terry howled and collapsed on the floor again. Ian’s eyes never left Mickey’s brothers. 

Kevin said “Don’t kill him Mickey. Please don’t kill him. He ain’t worth it man”. 

“This motherfucker ain’t worth shit Kev. All he ever did was spread misery and fear. Terrorized me all my damn life. Had me fucking scared of my own damn shadow. Didn’t know nothing but fear, scared to live and scared of dying. All he ever gave me was the back of his fucking hand, his fucking fist, or a kick with his fucking boot”. 

He looked down at Terry with contempt “Pay back’s a bitch, ain’t it bitch”? 

Terry had maneuvered onto his back. Mickey stomped him in the groin, 

“That’s for Mandy. You lousy, sick fuck. For what you did. Fucking perverted pedophile. Incestuous asshole”. 

Terry pissed his pants. Mickey looked at the urine pooling around him and snarled “What you embarrassed motherfucker? The big, badass Terry Milkovich pissed his fucking pants, and he’s embarrassed. Well fuck you. Send one of your punk ass sons to get you some clean shit. Let them clean your nasty ass. That’s all the assholes are good for anyway. Fetch and carry for your maniac ass. You didn’t fucking let them learn nothing else. Kept ‘em scared and ignorant. Now you got a bunch of dumbasses. You prick”. 

Iggy looked at Ian “Can I at least go get him some clothes”? 

Ian snarled “You wanna die Iggy? I give less than a fuck about Terry’s nasty, pissy ass”. 

He glanced over at Terry and laughed darkly. 

Mickey snarled “I got something else for you Terry. Listen up motherfucker. This is for Ian. Remember how you pistol whipped him? Made him watch while you had that nasty ass Russian whore try to fuck the gay outta me? Held a gun on us? Remember that huh? Did y’all know about that, my dear brothers”? 

With that, he stomped Terry’s right ankle. 

Terry howled again and hissed, “You faggot motherfucker”. 

Mickey laughed scornfully “At least I’m not a pissy ass motherfucker”. 

Then he stomped the left ankle. Terry howled again, tears running down his face. Mickey looked down at him in mock wonder, 

“Didn’t know you could cry Terry. You no good motherfucker. Can’t count the times you beat me till I cried. Beat me till I was a bloody fucking mess. I didn’t wanna let you see me cry, but you fucked me up so bad I couldn’t help it. Then you called me a pussy cause I cried. Well here’s to you, you fucking pussy”. 

He stomped his left ankle again for good measure, then gathered as much phlegm as he could and spit directly down into Terry’s face. 

Terry lay there moaning in a pool of urine, writhing in pain, tears streaming down his face. 

Mickey wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at his brothers with dead eyes,  
“And you motherfuckers sat there and never said a word. Didn’t care if he killed me. Let him beat me to a fucking pulp over and over. You just watched. Sometimes my head was so swollen I didn’t think it would ever be normal size again. Y’all just let him. Never said nothing, never did nothing. None of you. I always tried to help y’all. Always. Even took your beating sometimes. Did it for all y’all, and for Mandy too. I never want to see any of your sorry asses again. None. Of. You. I can’t stand the sight of you. You make me sick. And if you even think about fucking with Ian, I will kill you. I will fucking kill you. They will never find your fucking body. I mean what I say. Don’t fucking test me. Ian, you ready baby”? 

Ian’s eyes traveled slowly from Mickey’s brothers to the two men that came in with Terry. His voice was low and calm,  
“Ready when you are Mick. If any of y’all fuck with Mick I will kill you. I got skills you never even heard of, you fucking sorry assholes. You don’t wanna try me. You really don’t”. 

Mickey hopped over the bar and set the bat back in its place. Somebody else might need it. 

Ian carefully handed the shotgun to Kevin, 

“Sorry about all this Kev. Shit couldn’t be helped”. 

Mickey looked down at Terry “You smell like piss, daddy dearest”. 

He flipped Terry off and swaggered over to Ian, 

“Yeah, Kev sorry about all that. But that asshole had it coming. Bitch had to fuck with me, couldn’t just leave me the fuck alone. Well I’m done running from his sorry ass. Hell, he’d be wise to run from me from now on. Y’all be sure to tell everybody that Terry got his big, bad ass kicked by his faggot son and his man”. 

He laughed scornfully, put his arm around Ian, and sauntered out the door. 

His brothers wouldn’t even meet his eyes as they stepped back to let him and Ian pass. 

They heard Kevin tell them to get Terry’s sorry ass out of his bar.


	19. Our Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Ian make a new friend. Mickey is introduced to another aspect of the gay community.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still In the past, moving forward.

They had been spending every spare minute for the last three months looking at apartments and lofts. It felt like three years to Mickey. Ian just went happily along finding something wrong with everything they looked at. 

Mickey finally convinced him to choose two that he thought he could maybe, just possibly live in. He had arranged for them to be alone to make their decision because Ian spent too much fucking time quizzing the realtors about other listings that might be better. 

They were standing in the living room of the second apartment on Ian’s maybe, just possibly list. 

It was in Wrigleyville/Boystown. The building was old, but well maintained. The apartment itself had two large airy bedrooms, 1 3/4 baths, and a spacious living room. The kitchen wasn’t ultra-modern or anything, but it was a decent size with a breakfast nook, kitchen counter, and the cabinets and appliances were all new. Mickey had liked it the first time around. But Ian had been convinced that they could find something better, they just had to keep looking. 

Ian had just completed yet another inspection of every room. He sat on the floor and pulled Mickey down with him “So, what do you think Mick? Can you see us living here”? 

“Man, I liked it the first time. What about you princess? Think you can be happy here? Think we can make it our home”? 

Ian smiled brightly “Wherever we are together is our home. I’m so happy Mickey. Let’s take it. Let’s do it. Everything’s gonna be perfect. Now we get to pick out furniture. We’re gonna furnish our home together Mickey. No second-hand shit for us. Everything’s gonna be brand damn new. We made it out of the  
south side. We fucking made it Mickey”. 

Mickey laughed and pulled him in for a kiss “Yeah baby, we made it out, and we’re together. But did you just say brand damn new Ian? You dork.” 

Ian laughed and pulled him onto his lap and smothered him with noisy, sloppy kisses.

Contrary to Trevor’s dire warning, Mickey’s name was on the lease. The first thing they did after signing the lease was set up a time Sara would be free to come see their new apartment. She was in court all week, so she could stop by any evening after court adjourned for the day. 

They picked her up outside the courthouse Wednesday. They wanted to drive her home later, but she insisted it would be much simpler for her to call her car service. Ian had a deli near his work pack a picnic dinner for them. 

She loved the apartment. They sat on living room floor eating and talking and laughing. She gave suggestions for each room, recommending antique shops, and style magazines. 

Mickey spoke up “When do you even have time to browse through fucking magazines”? 

She chuckled “Oh, I keep up honey. I know what’s up”. 

Mickey sat there smiling as he listened to her and Ian talk about furniture brands and furniture types, window treatments, lighting, and fucking swatches. The fuck is swatch anyway? He realized that he was happy. Really fucking happy. He and Ian were moving in together. They didn’t have to run and hide anymore. Terry and his brothers were no longer threats. 

They were two grown men choosing to live their lives together. He was sitting on the floor in their apartment with the two people he loved most. Life was good, and he was grateful because he knew just how shitty life could be. 

Mrs. Berry was their first real visitor. They didn’t count Sara, she was their family, and they made sure she knew that the second bedroom was always available to her. She didn’t have to call, just show up. 

Mrs. Berry knocked on their door the week after they moved in. Mickey was lounging on their new sofa when Ian answered the door. 

He heard Ian say “Well thank you very much Mrs. Berry. Please come in. This smells so good. Haven’t had home cooked fried chicken in a long time”. 

She was smiling as she walked in “I thought you boys might enjoy it”. 

She looked over at Mickey who stood up when he saw her. 

He smiled “I’m Mickey. That’s Ian. Please come on in. We don’t have much furniture yet. Come over here and sit”. 

She chuckled “Thank you dear, but I can’t stay. Wanted to get the chicken to you while it’s hot”. 

Mickey’s mouth was watering “It smells so good. Thank you, mam”.  
While Ian took the platter to the kitchen Mickey asked “Which apartment are you in? I saw you in the parking lot the other day”.  
She really liked these pleasant young men, “Yes, I remember. I’m in apartment 311, just two doors down”. 

He nodded “Good. I’ll remember that”. 

She had come over to stand next to Mickey, she looked up at him and said softly “I’m glad you two are here. Glad you’re my neighbors. I lived here for 25 years with my Rochelle. She died two years ago, and I miss her every day”. 

Ian had walked back into the living room, “We’re so sorry for your loss Mrs. Berry” 

She smiled sadly “Thank you dear. Both of you. When we moved here decent places were hard to come by for people like us. This neighborhood was the exception. We all flocked here. We just wanted to live our lives in peace. Love each other and be happy. Be with the person we chose to be with. That’s all any of us ever wanted”. 

Ian’s eyes were misty, but Mickey was confused “But you said you’re Mrs. Berry”? 

Ian elbowed him in the side hard and she laughed “I was married for a short while. My husband died, and I met Rochelle. She was what I’d been missing my entire life and didn’t even know it. She made me feel complete. Whole. We were everything to each other”. 

Mickey was fascinated. He didn’t know any lesbians, and he had never even thought about senior citizens being gay. He decided he might as well go for it,  
“Did you and your husband have kids”? 

“No dear we didn’t. I don’t know what would have happen if he’d lived longer. But I do know that I am happy with the way things turned out. Rochelle and I had a good life. I was able to take care of her when she got sick. Make sure she got the proper care. I’m thankful for that”. 

Ian was lost in Mrs. Berry’s life story, he had his arm around her shoulders murmuring softly to her. 

Mickey’s stomach was rumbling, and he couldn’t take it anymore. The smell of hot fried chicken was getting to him, so he walked into the kitchen, peeled the foil back quietly and snatched up a drumstick. 

As he was chewing, he looked around to find both Mrs. Berry and Ian laughing at him. He swallowed his mouthful “What? This is delicious Mrs. Berry. You make this a lot?”. 

She beamed “I’ll make it my business to make it a lot for you boys. It’s good to have someone to cook for again. Rochelle loved my fried chicken. She used to say she could smell it from down the block”. 

Ian hurried into the kitchen, picked up a breast and bit into it “Oh my god. This is so good Mrs. Berry,” he said around a mouthful. 

She laughed happily “I’m so glad to know you boys. I’m going to go so you can enjoy your chicken. I’m so glad you like it, makes me happy. You boys be good to each other. Love each other through the bad times and you’ll be alright”. 

They both walked her to the door thanking her and telling her how good the chicken was. They closed the door and raced each other to the kitchen.


	20. Ian Has Ambition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey inspires and supports Ian.
> 
> Sara lends support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the past, moving forward.

Ian wanted more for himself. Sure, he had advanced to paramedic status, but Mickey’s commitment and ambition had inspired him. He wanted a degree too. 

He wanted his knowledge documented in a more formal way. The more he watched Mickey, the more he thought that maybe he could do it too. He wanted to do it. He even read chapters from Mickey’s text books that held his interest. 

One evening, Mickey was sprawled on the sofa studying and Ian was sitting on the floor, engrossed in a text book. 

Mickey looked at him “Man you’re always reading this shit, like you’re the one in school. You thinking about taking some classes”? 

He looked up and considered his answer “I don’t know. But some of this stuff is real interesting Mick. I get it. You know? Makes sense to me. Feels like I’d be good at it”. 

Mickey marked his place and closed his book, 

“Ian you’d be good at anything you went after. You’re smart man. If you didn’t get sick you would’ve gone to Westpointe. Be a big-time officer by now. I know you would’ve done it. You’ve always been willing to work your ass off when you want something. Never seen you half stepping on that shit. You can get any degree you want. I say go for it, baby”. 

He closed his book and smiled bashfully “Yeah”? 

“Fuck yeah. Hell yeah. You’re Ian fucking Gallagher. Original tough guy. You’re my man”. 

He laughed “Fuck you Mickey”. 

Mickey went to the fridge for beers and sat down on the floor next to him “So what you thinking man”? 

Ian sipped his beer “Well I’ve been looking at different programs. I kinda like the B.A with a specialization in Operations Management. I would learn how create new ways to deliver the services we already provide at the ambulance company. I could move up in the company or go to another company. I already know that I want to work in the medical field, and I have experience. Already got a head start”. 

Mickey leaned in and kissed him “Been giving it a lot of thought huh? Baby, you would be so good at it. Where you gonna go”? 

He was looking down, fidgeting with his hands, 

“You don’t think it’ll be too much? I mean with me working and all. Could get sick, get fucking manic or real bad depression. I don’t know Mick. Been stable for a long time now. Don’t wanna rock the boat. We’re doing so good, everything is good with us. Everything is perfect. Maybe that’s enough”. 

Mickey lifted Ian’s head and looked into his eyes “Ian I’m not gonna let you live your life in fear of what might happen. I got you. We know the signs, been through it all before. You can cut back on your hours. Hell, you can take a fucking leave of absence. My salary is more than enough to support us. We’ll use our savings for your tuition, we haven’t even touched the money I saved up when I was living with Sara. She’s still paying my tuition, I told her that we can afford it ourselves, but she won’t hear it. We’re not those poor, scared, ignorant, gay kids working at the Kash n Grab anymore baby. We’re a gay, professional couple with means, living our life out in the open. I got you every step of the way. You’re mine and I take care of what’s mine. We can do it however you want. I’m already there. Always. Promise”. 

Tears were streaming down Ian’s cheeks, he was overcome with love for this man he once treated so badly. 

Mickey kissed his wet cheeks murmuring softly “Come on baby. Don’t cry. I love you. We’re good. I got you”. 

Mickey got up “Let me get your laptop so we can look at this shit. Figure out how were gonna do it”. 

Ian wiped his face with the backs of his hands and nodded at him.

Ian enrolled at Chicago State University in the spring session. They along with Sara, decided that he should only work part time. 

She had taken them to the Flaming Embers to celebrate. She had been delighted, immediately insisting on paying for his tuition. 

When Ian balked, she explained that covering his and Mickey’s tuition was not a struggle for her. “I can afford it. You, on the other hand would have to struggle to pull it off. I don’t believe in unnecessary struggle. Acing those classes will keep you busy enough Ian. Simple”. 

Mickey chuckled “There it is, I was waiting for it. That ‘simple’ shit. When she says that shit, it’s over man. That’s the way she sees the world Ian. Her world view and shit. Just go with it, man”. 

She did a happy dance in her seat “He’s not wrong Ian. Now what are you having tonight”? 

Ian smiled “Thank you so much Sara. You are always so good to me. You don’t even know me that well. You know how bad I treated Mick, but you’re still so good to me. I just don’t understand. Never heard of someone just helping people for no fucking reason. But I really appreciate you. Your faith in me means a lot. Thank you so much”.

She placed a hand over his “I know you well enough Ian. I know you love Mickey. I know you are a good person. I know you were knocked to your knees by a devastating disorder when you were just a kid. I know you didn’t have the proper supports to deal with that disorder. I know your family was ill equipped to help you. I know that Mickey was there doing the best he could to help you. I know the disorder devastated you both, ruined your relationship for a time. I know you found your way back to each other. I know that I feel privileged to call you friend, to witness the love you two have for each other. I am fortunate to be able to help you in the ways that you need help. I’m able to not only wish you well, I’m able to help you do well. I choose to make your lives easier. I’m always here for you Ian. You are Mickey’s true love, and when I was getting to know you, that was the basis of my love for you. I’ve come to love you for the man you are, Ian. This is how you help someone. Remember it when you meet someone in need. And you’re welcome, my love”. 

When she finished talking Ian and Mickey were both swiping at their tears. Ian was very happy. He didn’t have to worry about tuition, and he was having dinner at his favorite restaurant with his two, favorite people. 

Mickey held Sara’s hand tightly as he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. He didn’t have the words to express his feelings for this beautiful, generous woman. She looked at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. They shared a soft smile. Ian watched them with a happy smile.

Ian breathed a huge sigh of relief as he looked at his grades for his second semester. He had taken four classes, but it had been harder than he expected. 

A month into the semester, Mickey noticed that Ian was staying up later and later. He insisted that he was fine, he just wanted to stay on top of things. 

One night when he was sure Mickey was asleep, he eased out of bed and took his notes and books into their guest room and closed the door softly. He didn’t want to wake Mickey. 

He got settled and realized he had forgotten his laptop, remembering that he wanted to look at the course objectives again. 

When he opened the door, Mickey was standing there. 

He smiled brightly “Mick what’re you doing up? Why did you turn the light on? I was trying to be quiet, didn’t wanna wake you. I’m just gonna study for a while. Won’t be long”. 

Mickey took him by the arm and led him to the sofa “Ian it’s 4am. We didn’t go to bed until after midnight. Did you sleep at all? You’ve got an early shift tomorrow”. 

He laughed loudly “That’s why I gotta study now Mick. I can’t study while I’m working. You know that”. 

“Yes, I do know that baby. I also know that you can’t stay up all night studying and then work all day. You need to be alert Ian. You deal with people’s lives. You need your rest baby”. 

Ian took Mickey’s hands and kissed them “I know Mickey, but I’m not tired. I’m fine, don’t worry. I can sleep when I get home”. 

“But I am worried Ian. I think we should see the doctor. Make sure everything is ok. What do you think? Couldn’t hurt”. 

Ian dropped Mickey’s hands abruptly “I said I’m fine Mickey. Nothing is wrong with me. You stay up and cram all the time, everybody does. It’s normal Mickey, why’re you making a big deal out of it”? 

He was pissed. Mickey was making too damn much out of this, acting like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. 

He stood up angrily “Come on. I’ll go to bed if it’ll make you happy. Fuck. Get up Mickey, let’s go to bed”. 

He had expected Ian to be resistant. He sighed inwardly and pulled him back down, “Ian wait. I’m not trying to upset you man. We said we’d watch out for any signs that you might need your pills adjusted. Catch it before it gets bad. That’s what we said, remember baby”? 

Ian sat there, stone faced. Mickey didn’t know if he should touch him, so he clasped his hands together in his lap and said as gently as he could, 

“Ian, this is me telling you that I see the signs, and I think we need to see the doctor. I know you’re scared baby, and you don’t wanna hear it. I’m scared too. I just think it’s better to go before it gets bad. Don’t have to be a long adjustment period. We just don’t know for sure. Let’s just see. Ok baby”? 

Tears were falling unchecked down Ian’s face as he sat there with his head down. Mickey’s heart went out to him. He got on his knees in front of him “Baby I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I got you Ian. I’m right here with you. Whatever you need. I’m here. Always be here for you. I love you baby”. 

He collapsed against Mickey’s chest sobbing and Mickey held him tight.

He finally looked up at Mickey, “You’ll go with me”? 

“Course I’m going with you. I’ll make the appointment first thing in the morning. We’ll get you in tomorrow. That ok tough guy”? 

He was still snuggled against Mickey’s chest, he nodded his head and clung to him. Mickey gathered him up and carried him to bed. 

Ian got the medication adjustment and only missed a couple of classes. Mickey took time off work to stay home with him. 

Ian told him, “Mickey you need to go to work. I’m fine. Don’t waste your vacation days. I’m alright”. 

“Here with you is where I need to be. Only place I wanna be. You’re mine Ian. I take care of you”. 

After only a few days, Ian started feeling better, sleeping better, and his appetite was improving. He changed his study habits, he stopped wasting time googling terms and concepts constantly.  
He used the syllabus as it was intended, he did the reading, paid attention in class and took notes. 

And he aced his classes. Fucking aced them all. He hurriedly texted Mickey and Sara. He was doing it. He was a fucking legitimate college student about to enter his third semester at a fucking university.


	21. Ian Supports Mickey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey presents the program he designed.  
Ian is all in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past, moving forward.

Mickey was trying hard to control his nerves as he waited for his turn to speak. He was sitting in the monthly department head meeting about to present his proposal for the program he designed to hire ex-cons. 

He was expecting strong opposition because nobody in their right mind wanted to be around ex-cons. Hell, he didn’t want to be around that element either. He had cut all ties to his former life, to his own family. So, he understood. 

But he did believe that when someone demonstrates a willingness to change, they deserve a chance. He doesn’t know where he would be today if Sara hadn’t taken him in. Back then he didn’t have the will nor a way to improve his life without her help. 

He was expecting everyone to react with outrage, and he prepared extensively for it. He spent a year gathering stats and research that proved his program could work, similar programs were working at hospitals nationwide. 

Ian was convinced that Mickey could pull this off. He jumped right in from the start, scouring the internet for relevant material, and compiling a reading file for Mickey. 

He even took time off work to accompany Mickey on one of the five hospital tours he’d gone on to assess existing programs. He studied for an exam while Mickey drove. Ian had been great, his rock. He smiled when he thought back to his parting speech earlier this morning. 

Ian kissed him tenderly and said “Mick, just remember who you are and what you’ve accomplished. You earned a fucking B.A in Organizational Management and that qualifies you to propose and implement any damn program you believe in. Your job is to be innovative, to think outside the fucking box. That’s why they hired you in the first place. You’ve done the research, identified the shit that can go wrong, and you have the appropriate redundancies built in. You’re good baby. You just gotta go in there and sell the shit. You got this”. 

Mickey sat up straight and smiled when he heard his name called. 

A couple hours later, a hungry, wrung out Mickey opened the door to his office and found Ian pacing back and forth in the small waiting room. 

He stopped abruptly and looked at Mickey “Well? How did it go? What did they say? They gonna let you do it”? 

Mickey laughed as he opened the door to his private office “Hold on tough guy. Let’s go inside and sit down. How long you been here anyway”? 

“A while. Sue’s covering for me. Come on Mickey, tell me everything”. 

He leaned in and kissed him softly “I love you Ian Gallagher. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You believe in me when I don’t believe in myself”. 

“I love you too Mick. So proud of you. Now what happened”? 

Mickey sat down tiredly “Well Simms didn’t say no. He had a lot of questions, which I took as a good sign. A few I hadn’t thought of, I need to look at more closely. Nursing was totally against it. Said I must be crazy, I’d be putting vulnerable patients at risk. Calling me crazy didn’t go over well with Simms though. Admissions had a long list of reasons why it wouldn’t work, totally ignoring my research and stats. Talked about ‘feasibility’ or some shit. Human resources said it would ‘create major problems for their over-worked, under-staffed department’. Overall I think it went well”. 

“Simms didn’t shut you down. That’s good Mickey. Real good. You just gotta answer his questions and you got your program. I’m so proud of you. Gonna text Sara right now”. He pulled out his phone and typed furiously. 

Mickey sat back and watched him, thinking how lucky he was to be loved by this man. 

After Ian sent the text he leaned over the desk and kissed him, “Gotta go. We’ll celebrate tonight. Let me know what you want for dinner”. 

Mickey held onto him “Nah. I’m taking my man out tonight. He deserves it”. 

“Ok Mickey”, Ian’s eyes were shining as he hurried out the door. 

Mickey unconsciously licked his lips as he watched him leave. He never got tired of looking at him in that fucking uniform.


	22. Mandy Turns it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara comes to dinner and Mandy joins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the past, moving forward.

Ian was cooking dinner when his phone beeped with a text and the intercom buzzed simultaneously. Can’t be Sara, Mickey is picking her up at her office. 

He read the text on his way to the door. Mandy. Shit. She’s downstairs. 

Why is she here? They texted sometimes, but he hadn’t talked to her since their ill-fated lunch. The fuck does she even want? 

He buzzed her in and quickly texted Mickey to let him know she was here. He made sure to let Mickey know that she just popped up out of nowhere. 

Shit. Do I even have enough food for her? Is she gonna stay? Shit. Fuck.

He opened the door with a frown on his face. She looked at him and smirked, “What’s wrong with you? What did Mickey do now”? 

He rolled his eyes as he stepped aside to let her in “Why you gotta always say shit like that? Mickey is perfect. It’s just that we’re having company. Didn’t know you were coming. I’m glad to see you, but you need to let me know first Mandy”. 

She punched him in the arm as she walked past him and threw herself on the sofa as if no time had passed at all. 

“It’s ok. I’m not staying. I know how Mickey feels about being forced to breathe the same air with me. Who’s coming? Whatever you’re cooking smells good. Maybe I’ll take some home”. 

He was in the kitchen wondering how he could stretch the meal to include her. He said absently,  
“Sara is sleeping over. Mickey’s picking her up. They should be here soon”. 

She perked up “Mickey’s rich lawyer lady? Maybe I will stay then. Should be interesting. She’ll get to meet Mickey’s ghetto ass little sister”. 

He walked into the living room and said sternly, 

“Sara is our friend. She means a lot to both of us. She has done a lot for us. Mickey loves her very much, and I do too. If you can’t handle that you should leave right now. I won’t have you embarrassing us. I won’t let you embarrass him Mandy”. 

She snarked “So what, you kicking me out Ian? I expect bullshit from Mickey, but not from you. You act like I’m some rebellious fucking kid. I know how to act damn it. If you want me to leave, just fucking say so”. 

“No Mandy I’m not telling you to leave. I wouldn’t do that. I’m just telling you how important Sara is to us”. 

Her eyes were flashing with anger and resentment, 

“I get it Ian. She’s important, an honored fucking guest in your home and I’m just dog shit”. 

He went back to the kitchen still fretting over dinner. The fuck is she even talking about? He didn’t have time to cajole her ass right now. 

She walked into the kitchen “Alright if I get a beer before our esteemed guest arrives? Promise I won’t get drunk”. 

He rolled his eyes and ignored her. Just as she was about to sit back down, Mickey and Sara walked in. 

Ian rushed to the door and leaned down to kiss Sara’s cheek, 

“Hey gorgeous. Good to see you. Um, you smell good. What’re you wearing? Is that a new scarf? It’s beautiful”. 

He knew he was babbling, but fuck, he was nervous. 

Mickey ran his thumb along the back of Ian’s neck and said quietly “It’s ok baby. I got your text. It’s fine. I love you. Calm down, we’re fine”. 

Sara patted Ian’s arm soothingly, and he smiled gratefully. 

Mandy sat back taking all three of them in. She was surprised to see that Sara was black. 

She just assumed, for no reason, that she was white. This woman was beautiful. Her skin tone reminded Mandy of peanut butter truffle. 

She was tall and slim, but not skinny, had long ass legs, and her long, shiny sister locks were on point. 

Her fucking expensive ass suit fit perfectly, must’ve had it made somewhere. She couldn’t find a damn wrinkle anywhere. Didn’t Ian say Mickey was picking her up from work? 

How the fuck do you wear clothes all day without getting wrinkled? This bitch. 

She heard Mickey saying “Sara this is my sister Mandy. Mandy, Sara”. 

Sara said “Hello Mandy. Good to meet you”. 

Mandy looked at her “Hey. What’s up”? 

Sara smiled and turned to Ian “Let me put my things away. I’ll wash up and help you. Smells heavenly in here”. 

She squeezed his hand and walked toward her room. 

Mickey chuckled, “Sara you know you can’t cook shit”. 

She shot back over her shoulder “That’s true Mick. But I’m sure there’s something I can do to help Ian out”. 

Ian said “Don’t listen to him Sara. I’m sure if you wanted to cook, you’d be great at it”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes “You would say that princess. You think the world is a fucking better place because she exists in it”. 

Ian leaned in and kissed him “So do you baby. So do you”. 

Mandy was sitting back watching it all play out. They acted like she wasn’t even there. 

She wasn’t used to Ian having a relationship with another woman. She had always been the only woman in his life. His sisters didn’t count. 

She still couldn’t figure out what this woman saw in Mickey. Sure, he probably showered every day now, wore expensive ass clothes, had a job she was convinced this bitch Sara got for him, had some bullshit degree, but he was still the same fucking south side thug. She just didn’t get it.

Ian was still nervous about dinner. He whispered to Mickey “I don’t know if I made enough food. What if we run out? I didn’t know she was coming Mickey. I don’t know why she’s here, we haven’t even talked lately, just some texting. Shit. She just popped her ass up”. 

Mickey took Ian’s face in his hands “Ian listen to me. It’ll be fine. We’ll have enough. I’ll make more salad. That shit stretches. We’ll have enough baby”. 

Sara walked in, “Stop fretting Ian. Everything is fine. We’re all here together. That’s what counts”. 

He smiled gratefully while he dished the food into serving platters. 

Mickey teased, “I can always go see if Mrs. Berry has any fried chicken laying around. Chicken laying, get it”. 

That made Ian laugh, Sara just rolled her eyes, a habit she picked up from Mickey. 

“No. Please don’t do that. She’d probably get up and start cooking,” Ian quipped, chucking at his own wit. 

Mickey looked over at him and smiled, satisfied that he was finally relaxing

They were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner when Ian said, 

“I can’t believe we have left overs. I was so scared there wouldn’t be enough for everybody”.

“Told you we’d have enough. You worry too much,” Mickey said. 

Ian nodded toward the living room and whispered, 

“We’d better hurry up and get in there. Mandy is jealous of Sara. Thinks she’s taking her place in our lives. Told her that’s not true”. 

Mickey slammed the fridge and whispered harshly “You know what Ian? Fuck Mandy. I already told her how I feel. She can get used to it or not, I don’t give a shit either way. I’m done”. 

Ian kissed his cheek “I know Mick. Calm down, I know”.

Sara was sitting on the floor making notes in a folder while she waited for them to finish up in the kitchen. 

Mandy sat on the couch watching TV and watching Sara. She didn’t understand her at all. Weren’t rich people supposed to be skilled in the art of conversation or some shit? 

This bitch was ignoring her. Sitting her ass on the floor in that fucking suit. So what if Mandy hadn’t started a conversation either? She’s the sophisticated one, isn’t she? 

Finally, she cleared her throat “So you and Mickey are pretty close huh? 

Sara looked up at her, expression unreadable, “Yes, we are”. 

Mandy met her gaze defiantly “So you just got him out of prison and decided he was special without really knowing anything about him? You took him in just like that”? 

Sara closed her folder, laid her pen down and gave Mandy her full attention, 

“It wasn’t quite that simple. I knew he was special the first day I met him. I learned more about him while we worked on his case together. He had no place to go after he was released. I was able to help him with that. Tell me, why does that bother you so much Mandy”? 

She sputtered “I didn’t say it bothered me. I was just making fucking conversation, trying to be polite. Typical lawyer bullshit. Putting words in my damn mouth”. 

Sara’s gaze was unwavering “You didn’t have to say it. It’s evident to me”. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Why should I care about you and Mickey? Not my damn business”. 

“Why indeed? Why do you care? It really isn’t your business at all. Maybe you should ask yourself why it bothers you so much that Mickey has someone to look out for him? Someone to help make his life easier. He had no one when I met him. Everyone he knew had turned their back on him. No one would even take his calls. He was lost. But you know all this don’t you? You were one of them weren’t you Mandy”? 

She jumped up and shouted “Fuck you bitch. You don’t know shit about me. He’s my fucking brother and I know him better than you ever will, bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway? Prancing your fancy ass around here in your fucking business suit. He’s my fucking family. He’ll always be a fucking south side thug. My family, bitch”. 

Ian and Mickey raced into the living room. Mickey went to Sara who was still sitting on the floor calmly watching Mandy as she ranted. She wasn’t impressed in the least. She took weekly kickboxing classes to relieve stress. She was confident she could handle Mandy. 

Ian went to stand next to Mandy who was shaking and crying. He put his arm around her and led her to their bedroom. 

When they left the room, Mickey sat down next Sara “I’m so sorry Sara. I knew this shit would end badly. I’m so sorry she talked to you like that”. 

She kissed his cheek “You’re not responsible for your sister’s bad behavior Mickey. She needs to get over herself. Apologize to you and admit how wrong she was to treat you the way she did, and then prove that she deserves to be in your life now. Mickey you did nothing to be sorry for. Now go and help Ian. I’m sure he’s spastic right about now”. 

He smiled “You always take my side, don’t you? Try to make me feel better”? 

“Always and forever Mick. I’ll be in my room. I’m pretty sure Mandy has seen enough of my ass for one day. Now go”. 

He got up and flipped a handful of her locks as he walked past on his way to help his man deal with his crazy ass sister. 

Mandy was crying in Ian’s arms when he walked into the room. He was totally unsympathetic as he stood by the door, 

“How did she get here? You gonna call an Uber or should I”? 

Ian gently brushed the hair from Mandy’s face “I’ll call an Uber when she calms down. Don’t wanna send her out like this”.

“I want you to take me Ian,” Mandy said pitifully. 

Mickey said “Nah man it’s late and I’m not riding with you. You’ll call an Uber”. 

She wailed “Ian I want you to take me. I’m sorry I said those things to her. I want you to take me home Ian. Please”.  
Mickey rolled his eyes, he was sick of her ass, 

“Get her shit together Ian. I’m calling the Uber now. Sara’s already in her room and we’ve got work in the morning. You’re gonna take your fucking pills and take your ass to bed, man. You already said you were getting up an hour early to go over your fucking notes. We're going to bed”. 

She wailed louder when Ian tried to get her to stand up. He looked over at Mickey and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. 

Mickey huffed and thumbed his bottom lip, “I just ordered the fucking Uber. You need to get your ass up and get your shit Mandy. You come over here unannounced and shit, eat our food, insult our friend and now you’re too fucking over-wrought to walk your ass to the damn elevator, ride down to the fucking lobby, get your ass in a car and have your ass driven home? To your fucking door? That what you’re saying Mandy? You too damn over-wrought?”? 

Ian was trying mightily not to laugh at Mickey’s out cold ass. 

He kissed Mandy’s hair and spoke softly “Come on Mandy. Stand up now. Let’s get you down stairs. I’ll walk you to the car. It’s alright, I got you come on now”. 

Mickey found Mandy’s backpack and tossed it to Ian. He looked at his phone, “Uber’s here man. Get her ass outta here. Now Ian”. 

He opened the door and watched them walk to the elevator. Ian turned to him, “Be right back Mick. Just gonna get her settled in the car”. 

Mickey snorted “Hurry the fuck up” and closed the door.

After Mandy left, they were sitting on the balcony smoking and drinking beer. Ian checked in on Sara when he came back upstairs. She assured him that she was fine and was ready to go to sleep. 

He looked over at Mickey “I’m sorry Mickey. I shouldn’t have let her in”. 

“Come on Ian, you weren’t not gonna let her in. All that shit is on Mandy. Not your fault man”. 

Ian took a gulp of his beer, “I had a bad feeling before y’all got here. She was talking some of that same shit. I tried to reason with her. It was just fucked up. She flat out turned our shit out tonight”. 

Mickey chuckled “Yeah she did. I didn’t hear Sara say anything did you? I mean, I know she was saying something because Mandy was getting madder and madder”. 

“I heard Sara ask her why it bothered her so much that you have someone looking out for you. And there was something about where Mandy was when you needed her. But fuck, the same can be said for me Mickey. I wasn’t there either. I think that Mandy resents that you forgave me and not her”. 

“We’re talking about Mandy, not you. I don’t give a fuck what she does or doesn’t resent. She don’t regulate my damn feelings. She don’t fucking run me. And drop that bullshit Ian. We already sorted our shit. Far as I’m concerned, that’s over and done. We’re moving forward that a’right with you princess”? 

He laughed “Ok Mickey. We’re moving forward. I’m just sorry she’s in so much pain”. 

Mickey rubbed Ian’s thigh “I know you are baby. I know you are. She’s lucky to have you ‘cause I really don’t give a shit”. 

The next morning, they were having coffee when Sara looked at their morose expressions and shook her head, 

“This won’t do. We’ll have a do-over tonight. No classes for you tonight Ian, right? I’ll have dinner sent over. I can be here around 7. We won’t allow anything to spoil our time together. We choose to be together because we value each other, and we value our friendship”. 

She looked at each of them in turn, “Fine. I’ll have my secretary go to my house for fresh clothes. I’ll be spending another night”. 

She looked at Ian and smiled “Ian you really enjoy the food at Flaming Embers. I’ll order all your favorites. It’ll be as if last night never happened”. 

Mickey laughed as he leaned over and kissed her cheek, 

“Good idea. Yeah, erase that shit show”. 

He smiled happily as he pulled Ian in for a sloppy kiss. 

Ian was beaming as he ran over the restaurant’s menu in his mind, “Oh hell yeah”.


	23. I'm With Mr. Gallagher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present day.
> 
> Ian gets a surprise visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present day.
> 
> One month has passed since that regrettable night.
> 
> Charles is Ian's assistant. (Just a reminder)

Mickey was standing in an alleyway across the street from Ian’s office building waiting for him to leave for the night. 

He saw Carl driving Ian’s truck the other day. Carl told him that Ian walked to work now, so he was keeping his truck. 

Mickey hadn’t seen Ian since that night at the apartment. The night Ian had insisted that John be there too. 

After John was forced leave, Mickey pleaded with Ian to stay for a while, and he did. He sat on the sofa and Mickey sat in his lap, he needed to be as close as he could. Ian wrapped his arms tightly around him and kissed the top of his head over and over. 

They didn’t talk at all, just sat there holding each other. For the first time in nearly a month, he fell asleep in Ian’s arms. 

When he woke up the next morning he was in his bed. Alone. Ian had carried him to bed, took his shoes off and covered him with a blanket before he left. 

He didn’t know that Ian stood there looking at him and crying for the longest time before he dried his eyes and left the apartment. That was nearly a week ago. 

After that night Ian started taking his calls, but he wouldn’t agree to see him, and he wouldn’t tell Mickey where he was living. He decided to find out for himself. He would just have to stalk his long, red headed ass. 

Mickey narrowed his eyes as he watched Ian and Charles walk out of the building together. Ian was laughing loudly at whatever he was saying. As he turned to walk away, Charles touched his arm and Ian paused. Whatever he said caused Ian to smile before he walked away. 

Mickey watched as Charles stood there in the middle of the fucking crowded sidewalk watching Ian disappear in the crowd. He was seething. Gotcha motherfucker. Ain’t happening you pencil pushing faggot. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets and set off after his man.

When Ian stopped at his building the doorman held the door open “Good evening Mr. Gallagher. Another long day I see”. 

Ian smiled “Hey Lester. What’s up man”? 

Mickey was shocked. How much fucking money is the asshole making? He’s living like this? Fucking doorman knows his name. Holy shit. 

Just as Ian was about to walk through the door, Mickey inclined his head, 

“Evening Lester, I’m with Mr. Gallagher there”. 

Ian stopped abruptly and whipped his head around so fast it had to be painful. His mouth was hanging open,  
“Mickey? Mick? Mickey, what are you doing here? How…...”? 

He grinned, recalling the night Ian followed him home from the community college, 

“Close your mouth Gallagher. This is how we do it, our thing now. Stalking each other and shit”.

From the look on his face, he knew that Ian remembered that night too. 

Lester shot Ian a concerned look “Mr. Gallagher is everything alright”? 

He glared at Mickey “Yeah, it’s fine Lester. Everything is fine, Mr. Milkovich is with me”. 

He grabbed Mickey’s arm and pulled him into the building. Mickey was full on laughing “Hold on tough guy. I’m coming”. 

Ian snapped “Shut the fuck up, asshole. Mickey what the fuck are you doing? Why are you here? How did you find me”? 

He was still laughing “Wasn’t hard when I put my mind to it. Pretty fancy place you got here. Let’s go up, shall we”? 

Ian’s glare was firmly in place as he strode to the elevator muttering “Prick”. 

Mickey was more than pleased with himself as he swaggered behind his man, hands in his pockets.


	24. Ian Needs Someone to Listen to Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present day.
> 
> Ian comes to a painful realization. 
> 
> He recalls the day he met Sara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the present. 
> 
> Ian will recall an event from the past.
> 
> I will indicate it in the text.

After Mickey left, Ian sat on his patio drinking his second beer of the evening and thinking about the mess their life had become. He had been glad to see Mickey, they had a pleasant visit. But something was off. He kept insisting that he didn’t know why he cheated. 

In what fucking world is that even possible? He had seen the way Mickey treated that fool, heard the way he talked to him. He acted like the fucking guy repulsed him. Why the fuck was he with him then? He has no doubt what so ever, that Mickey would still be fucking the asshole if he didn’t walk up on them that night. 

He needed to talk to Sara. She’s the one person he could trust to listen to him and help him sort his feelings. She was due back from her cruise four days ago, he hoped that was enough time for her to settle in. He knew how busy she was, but she always made time for him. They had grown close over the years, she treated him the same way she treated Mickey. She knew that he loved Mickey, that he would never hurt him again, and she knew that Mickey loved him. That made Ian a priority in her life.

IAN REFLECTS ON THE DAY HE MET SARA

He remembered the day he met her 3 ½ years ago. Mickey had eventually told him all about how she got his conviction over-turned, the long hours they spent in the prison visiting room working on his case. How she brought him home to her guest cottage and took care of him when she found out he had no place to go. 

Mickey tried to answer all his questions, but he still didn’t understand why a rich lawyer would take an ex-con, a stranger no less, into her home like that.  
He didn’t understand Sara’s generosity, and he certainly didn’t understand her total trust in Mickey. Why did she have so much faith in him? Hell, she was supporting him financially. 

He lived rent free in fucking Glencoe of all places. He didn’t have to worry about spending money, her cook even stocked his fridge with his favorite food, cooked his favorite meals. Sara paid his tuition, all he had to do is study and fucking think. The fuck? 

He wore fucking designer clothes and ate in the best restaurants. She even had a fucking tuxedo made for him when he was her date at some fancy ass gala. Mickey said she didn’t want anything in return. She just wanted to give him the chance he never had. She wanted him to have a good future. Ian didn’t understand any of it. He had no frame of reference for it. Shit like that didn't happen where he came from. 

Given all that, Ian knew that he resented their relationship, and not because he didn’t think Mickey deserved good things. He was happy for him, glad that he was finally getting a break. He knew that Mickey’s life had been shit. 

The problem was that he was used to being Mickey’s everything. Mickey never needed anyone else. Ian had always been enough for him. That was not the case anymore. Now, he had Sara Greene and Mickey had done just fine without him. 

He never saw Sara when he visited Mickey. Not even a glance. Whenever he asked Mickey when he was going to introduce them, he gave vague answers,  
“She’s working. Never stops man, or she’s probably on a call or something. Conference call, shit like that. Chill, it’ll happen”. 

He could only conclude that Mickey wasn’t sure about him. He still thought Ian would leave him again. After a lot of soul searching, he came to understand just how his betrayal had affected Mickey. How much he had hurt him, devastated him. 

He had abandoned Mickey, knowing that he had no one else. He couldn’t blame bipolar and he couldn’t blame his family. That had been all him. 

Now, he was doing all he could to prove to him that he understood what he did, and that he’d never hurt him like that again. He just had to be patient and wait it out. 

Finally, he was going to meet Sara. He was sitting on the rig, he and his partner had just returned from a call when he noticed a text from Mickey, 

“Hey. Dinner with Sara tonight. You game”? 

Ian felt his pulse rate accelerate as he typed,  
“Sure. Time”? 

“7? That OK"? 

That was just enough time for him to go home and change after his shift, 

“Sounds good. Should I bring anything? Wine? Chocolates? Flowers”? 

“Just your fine ass. You staying over”? 

“I can do that. See you soon”. 

“See you soon”. 

Ian decided that he would bring flowers to Sara. Mickey didn’t know shit. This dinner is important. He’d be meeting her for the first time, and he wanted to make a good impression. 

He ordered a dozen long stemmed red roses from his favorite florist, a small shop in Boystown owned by an elderly, married gay couple. He liked them and would sometimes stop in just to talk. 

Toliver took the order, “Sure thing Ian. What time do you want them to be ready? Or do you need them delivered? 

“I’ll pick them up at 6. That OK”? 

“They’ll be ready for you. Thanks Ian. See you then”. 

“Thanks Toliver. See you then”. 

He disconnected the call. Now all I gotta worry about is what to wear. Shit.

Thankfully, he was able to leave work an hour early. 

He rushed home and stood staring at his clothes. He wanted to look nice. He couldn’t make up his mind: casual or dressy? Shit. 

He decided to shower then decide. On his way to the bathroom Mandy called. He was not talking to her right now. She would totally ruin his mood. Mickey still refused to see her or any member of his family. It was like they didn’t even exist. Mandy always tried to make him feel guilty. He really felt bad for her, but he had thought long and hard about Mickey’s position and came to understand what he was feeling. He made it clear that he was done with the subject and Ian didn’t bring it up anymore. He let Mandy go to voicemail. 

Just as he was getting out of the shower, Lip called. Nope, not talking to your ass either. 

He sprayed his armpits, shoulders and inner elbows with the expensive cologne Mickey gave him for his birthday. 

He went to his closet again, to see what he was working with. He decided on a green button down that Mickey liked. He chose black jeans, his nicest belt and black boots. He combed his hair back and studied his reflection in the mirror. Not bad. 

He put his pills, and clean underwear in his backpack. Mickey had left a toothbrush out for him when he started staying over regularly. He grabbed a clean uniform, his backpack, checked his phone for the time and left his apartment. 

He picked up the flowers, and he was on his way to meet the mysterious Sara. While he was driving, he got a text from Mickey, 

“Come to Sara’s house when you get here. No rush. Love you. See you soon”. 

Ian didn’t bother responding to the text. He responded to accidents caused by people messing with their fucking phones while driving too often. Many of them fatal. Mickey would assume that he was driving. 

The closer he got, the more nervous he became. She’s just a person. A rich person, but still a fucking person. She knows how badly I treated Mickey. She hates me already. Shit. Shit. 

Mickey wouldn’t subject me to someone who hates me. I subjected him to Lip and Fiona, they hate him. 

He was sweating now. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. I gotta meet her. She’s very important to Mickey. Hell, I bugged the shit outta him about her. Gotta go through with it. He tried to calm himself by concentrating on traffic.

Mickey opened the door when he heard Ian drive up. He parked in the garage in his regular space. He took a deep calming breath, got the flowers from the passenger seat, and got out of his truck. 

Mickey was standing in the doorway smiling, “Hey man. Come on in. Glad to see you. You look good. Shit. All that for me”? 

Ian fidgeted with the slim ribbon tied around the flowers, and barked out a nervous laugh, “No asshole, you wouldn’t even know what to do with roses”. 

Mickey laughed, “True that. But I didn’t mean the flowers”. 

He could sense Ian’s nervousness, so he took his face in both of his hands, 

“Stop. This is no big deal, she’s good people. You know I wouldn’t put you in a bad situation. You do know that don’t you princess”? 

“Yeah Mick I know. Just want her to like me is all”. 

Mickey kissed him, “She already does Gallagher. Already does”. 

He smiled gratefully, “OK Mick,” and followed him into the house.

Ian had seen beautiful homes before, mostly in magazines and movies. He had even been in some when he was dancing at the club. 

But this was a whole different level. This must be what they mean by ‘old money’. He paused to look around, his mouth hanging open. This shit was WOW. This was understated opulence, nothing ostentatious about it. It was lavishly beautiful, luxurious, but looked comfortable, lived in. 

Mickey turned to look at him and laughed, 

“Close your mouth man. Come on. I’ll give you a tour later”. 

Ian blushed and fidgeted with the roses. Mickey walked back to him and took his arm and he calmed down instantly. 

He whispered, “I’m ready now. Let’s go Mickey”. 

When they walked into what Ian assumed was the sitting room, he let out an audible gasp. Mickey grinned at him. There was just too much to take in.  
It was a very large room, larger than Ian’s entire apartment, including the balcony. Larger even than the entire first floor of the house he grew up in. It was a room like none he’d ever seen. A long brown velour sofa with beige pillows of different shapes sat facing the entrance. Brown lacquered, two-tiered oblong tables sat at each end of the sofa. A round beige velour cushioned coffee table sat in front of the sofa. There was a long table with two very large lamps, one beige, the other ivory behind the sofa. 

A fireplace lined the back wall, and two large, square, dark brown tables sat on either side. Two one armed Ivory chaise lounges sat on opposite walls facing each other. There were wall lights and floor lamps, as well. The walls and the carpet were matching shades of brown. 

Ian took it all in. While he was taking his third look around, sure he’d see something that he missed the other two times, Sara walked in.

Mickey nodded at the roses, “Sara come meet Mr. Manners here”. 

He blushed furiously as she walked up to him smiling, with her hand outstretched “Ian. I’m Sara. So good to meet you”. 

He blushed again as he took her hand said shyly, 

“Good to meet you, too. Been looking forward to it for a while now”. 

He handed her the roses, “For you”. 

She smiled with delight “They’re lovely. Red roses are my favorite. Thank you. I’ll get a vase. Be right back”. 

He was still standing when Mickey said, “Sit down man. Come on over here”. 

He was sitting on one of the chaises, laughing, enjoying himself at Ian’s expense. 

Ian walked over to him and whispered, “Shouldn’t we stand until she comes back in”? 

Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed, “What for”? 

Ian shrugged, “I just thought….”. 

“She’s not like that Ian. Told you she’s cool people. Now calm the fuck down. You’re making my ass nervous”. 

Just as he was about to sit down with Mickey, Sara walked back in. He quickly jumped back up, somehow managing to kick Mickey in the shin. 

Mickey howled, “Fuck. Fuck’s wrong with you Ian”? 

He was flustered, “Shit. Sorry Mick. Shit”. He was blushing furiously.

Sara looked at Mickey, who was rubbing his leg, and scowling. She chuckled and turned her attention to Ian, 

“Ian sit down. We’ll eat soon. Unless you’re hungry now? Mickey did say you were coming here from work”. 

“No. I’m fine Sara”. 

She sat on an ottoman and Ian sat down next to Mickey, who moved both legs well out of his reach. 

Sara looked at Mickey, he was still scowling and rubbing his leg. She caught Ian’s eye and started laughing, he joined in happily. 

Mickey flipped them both off, and they laughed even harder. The dinner was a huge success. He took to Sara immediately, and the sentiment was returned. 

Present Day

Ian walked his 11:00 appointment to the elevator and was heading back to his office when Charles stopped him, 

“What are we doing for lunch Ian? Almost that time. You’ve been going non-stop all morning”. 

“Hadn’t really thought about it. A sandwich at my desk, I guess. I’ve got Mr. Roonick at 1:00”.

“No. He rescheduled for next week remember? You’re free the rest of the day. Thought we could go to that nice little place down the block that you like. Nice and quiet, always relaxes you”. 

“Thanks Charles, but I need to make a call. I’ll just eat something at my desk”. 

“Well, OK then. Let me know what you want, and I’ll take care of it. Maybe we can eat together in your office,” Charles offered. 

Charles was disappointed. He’d been happy when the 1:00 rescheduled, sure that he would get to sit across from Ian and enjoy a leisurely lunch. But he would settle for lunch in Ian’s office with the door closed. It would be just them, alone. He knew how to take care of him, how to get him to relax, how to make him laugh. He made Ian’s life easier every day. 

Ian looked at him curiously as he massaged his temple, 

“I think I’ll take a short nap after I eat, went to bed late. My regular order from the sandwich shop will be fine. Thanks Charles”.  
He went into his office and closed the door.

Charles was crushed. He knew that whatever was wrong had to do with Mickey. It’s always Mickey. I wish his ass would just disappear. He’s no good for Ian, just keeps him confused and hurt.  
He vowed once again to do all he could to make it better. If Ian only gave him a chance, he could make him forget that asshole. How could he hurt Ian like that? Cheat on him with that stupid ass guy? How could he cheat on Ian with anyone? Now he’s sorry? Bringing flowers, calling all the time.  
Fuck that, he didn’t deserve Ian. 

He sighed as he called in their lunch order. Now he would have to eat in the break room with everyone else. Fuck Mickey.

Ian was sitting at his desk about to call Sara. He was heart sick and so fucking confused. No matter how he parsed it, he kept coming back to the same damn conclusion. 

When he walked up on Mickey and John, he had honestly been convinced that Mickey was in love with the guy. But since the night the three of them met in Mickey’s apartment, he had to reconsider his assumption. 

Mickey hadn’t acted like a man in love. Ian knew what Mickey in love looked like. He clearly hadn’t wanted John there that night. Hell, he had thrown him the fuck out and shut the door in his stupid face. He said that he loved Ian, only wanted Ian, with John sitting right there. 

He kept coming back to the same fucking question. Why the fuck had he cheated? Why had he risked their relationship? Mickey isn’t a player, never has been. He’s always been loyal. 

The only thing that made any sense caused his heart to ache. Mickey had never truly forgiven him. That had to be the reason.

He got Sara on the line and they arranged to meet for dinner at a restaurant near her office tomorrow night. She’d said, 

“I have a late meeting tonight, but if you need, I can meet you after”? 

He could wait one more day, 

“Thanks Sara. Tomorrow is fine. See you then. Love you”. 

“Love you too Ian. I’ll have my secretary make reservations for 7. See you then”. 

He didn’t bother telling her why he wanted to talk. He was pretty sure Mickey had already talked to her. He knew that she wouldn’t offer her opinion unless he asked. Then she would be blunt and to the point. He admired that about her. 

The next evening Ian stood when he saw Sara walking to their table. God, she was stunning. She was wearing a beautifully tailored black silk suit, the jacket had one button with satin lapels. Her black leather pointed toe Jimmy Choo 4” pumps did wonders for her long legs. She carried a black quilted Saint Laurent shoulder bag. Heads turned as she strutted by. 

She smiled at Ian as the waiter held her chair out for her. She gave him her drink order and sat back, smiling at Ian. 

He said, “You cut you hair. Looks good”. 

She chuckled, “Thanks. Just a bit, wanted to try something different”. 

He was suddenly nervous, “So how was the cruise? 11 countries huh?” 

She folded her hands on the table, 

“Ian my trip was fine. We can talk about it another time”. 

The waiter placed her drink in front of her and walked away. She took a sip and said, 

“This was the cook’s day in. We could have eaten at my house, but I don’t know if Mick is still in the cottage. He was a mess last night”. 

She watched Ian’s reaction closely, satisfied she took another sip of her drink. He’s miserable too. They can work through this shit. 

Ian took a sip of his beer, “Sara I don’t know what to do”. 

She smiled softly, “I know you’re confused Ian. Let’s order and sort this shit out. I missed lunch today”. 

They placed their orders, and Ian talked while they waited. She sat back and listened. He stopped talking when their dinner arrived. 

They ate quietly for a while before she asked, “Why do you think he did it, Ian”? 

He laid his fork down, 

“At first I thought he had fallen in love with the guy. Mickey is not a cheater, he’s always been loyal to a fault. So, I thought he had found someone better. But after seeing them together, I don’t know what to think really. I just don’t think Mickey is in love with him. Hell, I don’t think he wants him at all”. 

He told her about John coming to his office, the meeting at Mickey’s apartment, Mickey’s personal flower deliveries. He thought he needed something stronger than a beer. They both ordered Manhattans. 

She was staring at him intently as she sipped her drink. 

“I’ll ask again Ian. Why do you think he did it”? 

She watched as tears slid slowly down his cheeks. He didn’t bother wiping them away, whispering, 

“I don’t think he ever forgave me for before Sara. For all the horrible shit I did to him. He never forgave me”. 

She gave him some tissues and he dried his cheeks. She smiled sadly, 

“I agree. What are you going to do about it”? 

He was used to her no-nonsense manner. He had matured, he no longer equivocated himself, and had little patience for people who did. 

“I have to talk to him about it, I don’t think he even realizes it”. 

“I agree,” she said simply. 

He looked at her with such sadness and despair, she felt her heart clench, and her eyes filled with tears. As she dabbed at her eyes she thought ‘what beautiful eyes he has’. They both composed themselves and finished their drinks. She talked a bit about her cruise. 

Before they stood to leave, she said, “You call if you need anything Ian. Anything at all”. 

“Thanks Sara, I will”. 

“I have a car waiting. Didn’t know how long we’d be. Can I drop you somewhere? Where are you living?” she asked as they walked out. 

He told her about the corporate apartment. 

“Well congratulations Ian. I know how hard you worked on that proposal. I’m so proud of you. This is major, Mr. VP. We’ll celebrate once this unpleasantness is sorted”. 

He smiled bashfully as she kissed his cheek. 

“Thanks Sara. We’ll all celebrate. I’m not that far from here, gonna walk. Need some fresh air. Love you, talk soon.” 

He kissed her cheek and walked away. She whispered, “Love you too, Ian”.


	25. Mickey Seeks Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey goes to the one person who has never let him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present day, but reflects on the previous night.
> 
> I will indicate it in the text.

Sara settled in for the ride home after dinner with Ian, and thought back to the state Mickey had been in last night.

LAST NIGHT 

He was sitting in Sara’s dining room waiting for her to finish a call. He was glad she was back home. She had been on a fucking 40-day world cruise. An old law school classmate had convinced her, along with Mickey’s input, to take the much-needed vacation. She was talking to the guy now. 

Mickey had met the dude, he seemed cool enough, and judging from the giggles he was hearing, she liked him a lot. Sara didn’t giggle. 

She had been reluctant to go because she thought it was too soon after her husband’s death to get serious about another man. To her, it seemed somehow disloyal. She had talked about her fears, reservations, and her guilt while Mickey listened, only offering his opinion when she asked for it. Just like she had done for him so many times. 

He still marveled that they had become such good friends, confidantes really. He treasured their friendship. He loved her dearly and trusted her completely. She had saved his life. She had his loyalty for as long as he lived. 

He had no reservations about telling her what he had done. He knew that unlike Mandy, she wouldn’t judge him. Mandy had immediately started telling him what a piece of shit he was without even knowing what occurred, and she still didn’t know. None of them knew because Ian hadn’t told anyone. 

After all the progress he’s made, Mandy still saw him as a failure. It was like she had been expecting him to fuck up the relationship. In that regard, she was just like Ian’s family. Most of them thought he was toxic to Ian. Perhaps they were right. He had fucked up so bad.

Mickey did not want to have a relationship with Mandy after he got out of prison. She was welcome in their home because she and Ian were close, although she rarely visited him these days. They had lunch sometimes, talked and texted, but their relationship was strained. 

When they got back together, Ian told her, and his family to stay away if they couldn’t treat Mickey with respect. 

Mickey listened the few times she tried to talk to him about their ‘relationship’, how they were brother and sister and should be close. How he had always looked out for her. She said he was being unfair to her because he had forgiven Ian, why not her? 

He told her that he had no desire to defend his feelings to her, and he was done with it. Ian brought it up once, and Mickey let him know it was not up for discussion. He had Sara and Ian, they are his family, the only family he needs. 

Sara had finally finished her call, she was heating dinner while Mickey set the table, like they had done so many times before. 

“So, you went to 11 countries? What the fuck was that like?” he asked, attempting a jovial tone. 

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a laugh,  
“Don’t even try it Mick. We already talked about my trip. I’m sick of talking about it. You need to tell me what’s wrong. From the look of you, it’s going to take a while. Might as well get started”. 

He chewed his inner cheek and started talking, and she listened quietly. 

They had finished eating an hour ago and Mickey was still talking. 

Of course, Sara had known about his and John’s relationship when Mickey lived with her, but she never commented on it. 

She remembered John being despondent after Mickey left him for Ian. She left him to it. His work never suffered, that’s all that mattered to her. 

As she listened to Mickey, she could hear the shame, the remorse, and the deep regret in his voice. Her heart ached for him. She loved him very much. He was her dear friend. Ian was her dear friend too. She wanted them to be happy. Together. 

Mickey stopped talking and looked at her with tears glistening in his eyes. She got up to get tissues for him, and beer for them both. 

She sat down and took a deep breath, 

“Mick you made a mistake. A bad mistake. You are deeply sorry. You must convince Ian that you will never hurt him like that again. He loves you, and I believe he will give you the chance to make it up to him. You gave him that same chance when he asked for it. Remember how hard it was for you to trust him again? He gave you the space you needed, the time you needed. You told me that he said he would wait for however long it took. He refused to give up on your relationship. Mick honey, he’s that same Ian. He loved you then, and he loves you now. He fought for you then, he’ll fight for you now. See what I’m saying”? 

Mickey was full on sobbing now and she was crying right along with him. She got up and went to the bar and poured them both double shots of Jack. 

She brought the bottle back with her. She gave Mickey his glass, 

“Here, drink this”. 

They both knocked their drinks back. Mickey looked at her and asked, 

“You sure”? 

“Yes, I’m sure Mickey. Very sure”. 

That’s all he needed to hear. If Sara said it, it was so. 

He stood and said “I’m going to bed then. Goodnight”. 

“Goodnight Mickey”. He kissed her cheek and walked out. 

He slept in the bed, in the house that he had called home for over two years. He fell asleep knowing that he would get Ian back. Sara had told him so. He slept better than he had since the day Ian left him.

Sara sat up in bed that night thinking about Mickey and Ian. She had no doubt Ian would forgive him. They had something very few people experienced. She recognized it because she’d had it with her late husband. A pure, unadulterated, raw kind of love. 

She wondered why Mickey had cheated in the first place. Did he even know why himself? She thought not. 

She didn’t think it was about John at all. He had been positively devastated when Mickey left him. She had the impression that he hadn’t expected it at all.  
She could tell that he wanted to ask her about Mickey, but he never worked up the courage to approach her. She was glad because she would hate to lose him. He was an excellent paralegal, but she wouldn’t tolerate him taking such liberties with her. He is her employee, there is a clear line that must be maintained. 

She thought about Mickey’s relationship with his sister. He had never forgiven her for abandoning him when he was locked up.  
Ian had told her how close they once were, and that Mandy wanted that closeness again. None of them knew the shape Mickey had been in back then. She still firmly believed that he would have died in that prison. She had seen his desperation, and she had also seen his goodness, and his potential. 

She brought him into her home to show him a different way, and she’s never regretted it. It was one of the best decisions of her life. 

A question popped into her mind right before she fell asleep. Had he really forgiven Ian for the past? Or did he just want to forgive him so badly that he convinced himself that he had?

PRESENT DAY 

TONIGHT (After Dinner with Ian)

Sara was home. The driver helped her out of the car “Thanks Franklin. See you next time. Be careful”.

“You’re welcome Ms. Greene. See you next time. Have a good night”.

When she got inside, she kicked her shoes off and went to the bar to make a drink. She found a note from Mickey saying that he was going home to fight for Ian. 

She smiled as she sipped her drink. After spending time with Ian tonight, she was more convinced than ever that they would find their way back to each other. 

She picked up her shoes and took her drink upstairs. She would sleep easy tonight. Her boys would be fine. They would emerge from this shit stronger than ever. 

She wondered what the fuck John could’ve been thinking. Mickey had left him for Ian, and he was fool enough to start back up with him while he was still with 

Ian? She supposed he was in love. Oh, well.


	26. Tell Me Why, Mick?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey begin the long, painful process of gaining a deeper understanding of their love for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present day.

Ian had been in meetings all morning long. He and Charles met with the training staff at 8:30 to begin the process of implementing phase one of the changes to the training protocol. 

Some of the older employees had been resistant to the changes, and he had spent an inordinate amount of time explaining how the changes would benefit everyone. He understood their concerns, he understood that change meant uncertainty. He would continue to offer reassurances, but he was moving forward. 

He had been 15 minutes late for his next meeting with a vendor that was raising their prices. He sat listening to Bradley, the representative, list the reasons for the price increase. When Ian pointed out that there had been no mention of product improvement, Bradley said that he wasn’t aware of any complaints, and he would have to get back to him. 

Ian promptly instructed Charles to start getting quotes from other vendors for the product. He understood that people were testing him mainly because he was young and inexperienced for the most part, but they didn’t understand that he was determined to succeed. 

It was finally lunch time and he was trying to decide what the fuck to do when Mickey called. 

“Hey Mick. What’s up? Y’all busy over there today”? 

Mickey was so fucking relieved that Ian was taking his calls again, a new development since the day he followed him home earlier in the week. 

He chuckled happily, “Man you know I run a tight ship. How’s it going over there”? 

“Pretty good considering”. 

“Considering what? Do I need to come over there and kick some ass”? 

Ian rolled his eyes, “No thanks. That’s the last thing I need. What’s up”? 

He paused for a moment, “Wondering if we could get together tonight? Talk about things if you’re up for it. I miss you Ian. I don’t do good without you man. Not working tomorrow are you”? 

Ian looked at the folders stacked up on his desk, 

“I’m planning on coming in for a while. Usually get a lot done on weekends. Peaceful and quiet. Charles already told me he’s available all day. We usually grab an early dinner after we knock off for the day”. 

Mickey swallowed his irritation at the mention of Charles’ name. He knew that the guy was good at his job, Ian depended on him, trusted his judgement and all that shit. He also knew that the asshole wanted Ian. But he was in no position to bring that up, so he settled for reasoning, 

“Man, it’s the weekend. You can’t work all the time. Burnout is a real thing. I know how important this new position is to you, gotta prove yourself and shit. I’m sorry I haven’t been supportive, and I wanna change all that. If you let me. Will you let me Ian? Will you let me support you like you deserve”? 

He was quiet for a long minute, “Sure Mick. Whatever you say man”. 

Mickey figured that was the best he was gonna get. At least Ian was talking to him about shit, wasn’t shutting him down. He’d take it, he pressed on,

“So about tonight? Can I come over? Dinner, talk”? 

He missed Mickey too, wanted to spend time with him, 

“Ok. Come on over. We should talk. I’ll text you when I’m leaving here. Won’t be too late. Already been a long day and it’s only noon”. 

Mickey exhaled the breath he’d been holding, 

“Deal. Thanks Ian. See you soon baby. I love you”. 

“Love you too, Mick. See you soon”.

Mickey laid his phone on the desk and leaned back in his chair deep in thought. He had lost his edge. He didn’t know Ian’s thoughts about anything these days. He didn’t know if he should be optimistic or scared shitless. He couldn’t go by his tone because his tone was always ‘measured’ when he talked to Mickey. 

His desk phone rang, it was an ER extension, he answered, 

“Milkovich”. 

“Hi Mickey. This is Josh in ER. We’re admitting John Long. He’s asking for you”. 

“Asking for me? Why”? 

Josh sighed tiredly, “He wants you to come down here. What do you want me to tell him”? 

Mickey was instantly angry. This motherfucker. 

“Is he hurt? Accident or something”? 

Josh was getting impatient, “Not an accident. EMS brought him in. Look he asked me to call you. You know I can’t say any more. What do you want me to tell him? You coming down or not”? 

“Shit. Sorry Josh. On my way.” 

He hung up and scrubbed his face with both hands. What the fuck? Why is he asking for me? I’m not his fucking next of kin. Always something with this fucker. 

Not gonna let this motherfucker mess up the progress I’ve made with Ian. Fuck no. He closed the door to his office and went to the ER. 

Josh was the ER charge nurse. He had been trying to get with Mickey for months. 

Mickey walked up to him, “Hey man. Where the fuck is he”? 

Josh let his eyes roam slowly over Mickey’s body, “Hey Mickey. Looking good as usual. When are we gonna get that drink? Been waiting awhile”. 

Mickey wanted to get this shit over with, “Josh where the fuck is he, man”? 

Josh smiled and pointed, “He’s right there. Come find me before you leave. We can get coffee, a cigarette”. 

He laughed, “Whatever man”. 

When Mickey opened the curtain, John was sitting on the side of the bed frowning, “Was he hitting on you Mickey”? 

His eyebrows shot up as he stood there looking at him, “Fuck you. What’s wrong with you? Why’d you have them call me, man”? 

He was so glad to see Mickey. But why is he acting like this? Like he’s in a hurry to leave. Like I’m putting him out. I paid extra to have EMS to bring me to this hospital because he works here. 

He said, “Gallbladder. They say I need surgery”. 

Mickey shoved his hands in his pockets, “Pretty simple procedure. You’ll be fine. Good luck”.

As he turned to walk out, John asked in a strained voice, 

“That’s it? You’re just gonna walk out and leave me”? 

He rolled his eyes as he turned back to face him, 

“Just what am I supposed to do? What do you expect me to do? Hell, I can’t help you. I’m not a fucking medical professional. If you’re worried, got questions, they got pamphlets and shit. Read ‘em”.

He glared at Mickey, “Some fucking sympathy would be nice. Why do you hate me so much? Ever since Ian interrupted our date you’ve treated me like shit Mickey. Like it’s all my fault. I’m tired of it”. 

Mickey was getting mad. This prick just wouldn’t let up. Why the fuck did he think he could force Mickey to want him? Who does that shit? He narrowed his eyes and thumbed his bottom lip, 

“I’m sorry you’re sick, OK? But I’m not your family, we are not together, and I will not be here for you. I’m not dealing with the rest of the bullshit you just spouted. Don’t call me, and don’t have anyone else call me. You have a family. Call them, or not. I don’t give a fuck either way”. 

Josh stuck his head around the curtain and winked at Mickey, 

“Everything alright in here? Mickey you’re not upsetting my patient are you”? 

“Sorry. I was just leaving”. 

He walked out. Fucking great. Josh had probably heard everything. This is another fucking shit storm. 

Later that evening, Mickey left work when Ian texted to let him know that he was on his way home. 

Now they were sitting on the sofa in Ian’s apartment. Ian turned to him, 

“Mickey, I don’t think you ever really forgave me”. 

He looked at him in total confusion, “What are you talking about Ian? You didn’t do anything. I cheated this time. Not you”. 

He carefully considered Mickey’s word choice before continuing,   
“For abandoning you Mickey, and all the shit that came before”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Baby we hashed that shit out before we got back together. I told you I understood. We worked through all that”. 

“Understanding and forgiving aren’t the same thing Mickey. You know that. I think you want to forgive me, but subconsciously, you can’t. Fuck. I don’t know. I think you believe you forgave me”. 

He huffed, stood up and started pacing,   
“What the fuck are you even talking about Ian? How could I think that I forgave you, and it not be so huh? Seems like I would know don’t you think”? 

Ian wished he would sit his ass down. He was making him nervous. He looked up at him, “I can’t exactly explain it. Especially if you aren’t willing to try to understand. Ok. Let’s try this. You said, and continue to say, that you don’t know why you cheated. Right”? 

He sat back down and took Ian’s hand, 

“Ian, I honestly don’t know why I did it. I don’t want John. Never wanted him like that, like I want you. I only love you. I don’t need him. I never want to see him again. At my lowest point, I have never not wanted to see you again. You have to believe me”. 

“Why did you do it then? At first, I thought you were in love with him. Had chosen him because he was better for you. You were dating him Mickey. You were, and still are emotionally tied to him. He occupied your fucking thoughts, he had space in your damn head. You schemed to be with him. He fucking expected you to keep your commitments to him and you kept them. That’s a fucking relationship Mickey, and you might wanna be done with him now, but you’re not. I just couldn’t imagine you cheating for the sake of cheating. That’s not you. You have always been loyal to a fucking fault Mick. I couldn’t imagine you hurting me like that just because you wanted to fuck some other guy. I thought you had fallen in love with him. So, if you didn’t love him, why did you do it then”? 

They were both crying now. Mickey grabbed a handful of tissues, gave Ian some and wiped his face with the rest, 

“Ian, I don’t know what to say. I’ve asked myself a million times how I could do something so reckless, so fucking cold. I risked everything for a guy I don’t give a damn about. I could’ve broken it off at any time, but I didn’t. It’s like I couldn’t. Not because of him, not because he meant something to me. It’s almost Iike I had to let it play out or some shit. I don’t know Ian. Can’t make sense of it no matter how hard I try”. 

Ian blew his nose nosily, “So you wanted me to find out? Sounds like that’s what you’re saying. Think about it before you answer. Just think about it, Mick”. 

He stood up and went to the bar for the bottle of Jack he picked up on his way home, “Want ice Mickey”? 

Mickey looked up and smiled. He got that for me. He was thinking about me. 

“Nah. Neat is good baby”. 

Ian poured their drinks and decided to bring the bottle back with him. He set Mickey’s drink in front of him and took a long sip of his before sitting back down. 

Mickey drained his glass and poured another, 

“Thanks man. Needed that”. 

Ian smiled as he sat back and waited patiently for Mickey to speak. 

Mickey cleared his throat, “Ian that’s crazy. Why would I want you to find out? Look at what happened when you did find out. I did not want you to find out. Definitely not”. 

Ian sighed heavily, “Well if you weren’t that into him why did you fuck him at all? Why did you risk our relationship in the first damn place? I think you know why. We both know why Mickey. I think you wanted to hurt me. Wanted to hurt me like I hurt you. Wanted me to know how it feels when the one person you depend on lets you down”. 

Mickey’s stomach dropped, “What the fuck are you talking about? You think I planned all this? I woke up one day and said let me start fucking John so I can hurt Ian? That’s what you think of me”? 

Ian was the one pacing now, “Yeah Mick, that’s exactly what I think. You got involved with him to hurt me. You kept fucking him until I walked up on you. You wanted me to know that you could hurt me just as bad as I hurt you. You wanted me to feel the pain, the rejection that nobody but you could make me feel. Just like I made you feel it”. 

Tears were streaming down his face as he paced back and forth. 

Mickey sat with his head bowed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He exhaled loudly as he went to the fridge and took out two bottles of water. 

“Come on let’s get some air man. Take a break from this shit”. 

He took Ian by the arm and gently pulled him out onto the patio. They sat together quietly drinking water and sharing a cigarette, each lost in his own thoughts. 

He dreaded the answer, but finally asked, 

“Tired? Want me to leave? I didn’t come here to upset you Ian. I’m sorry”. 

Ian leaned over and kissed him softly,   
“Yeah, I’m tired, but I don’t want you to go unless you want to. I’m sorry for upsetting you too”. 

He sighed in relief and smiled happily, “I want to stay. I always want to be with you Ian. I only feel whole when I’m with you. Come on let’s get some sleep. Enough talking for now”. 

Ian stood and pulled Mickey into his arms, “Ok Mickey, enough talking for now”.

Mickey eased out of bed a couple hours later, careful not to disturb Ian. He grabbed his cigarettes and lighter, glancing at the clock on the microwave on his way to the patio. 

It was much too soon to wake Ian, he had been exhausted when they went to bed. He was glad that Ian had wanted him to stay. Especially after the fucking turn the conversation had taken. Could Ian be right? Was Mickey harboring some deep resentment he wasn’t even aware of? Had he sat out to deliberately hurt Ian? Was he really that fucking vengeful? Fuck. 

He couldn’t seem to get past this shit. He just wanted to make things right. Get his man back. Put this shit behind them. Move the fuck on.

When Ian woke up the sun was up. He reached out for Mickey, but he wasn’t there. Did he leave? Did I push too hard? Shit. Ian sighed and got out of bed. 

He smiled when he stumbled over Mickey’s shoes on his way to the bathroom. Mickey didn’t run. He stayed. He wants to figure this out. Ian yawned widely, emptied his bladder, and went to find Mickey. 

He stepped onto the balcony, “Wondered where you went. Couldn’t sleep”? 

Mickey held his hand out, “Come sit with me. Didn’t want to wake you up. You work too hard. You OK”? 

He sat in Mickey’s lap, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in his neck. Mickey laughed, “You sniffing me man? God, I missed that. Missed you so much”. 

Ian’s voice was muffled by Mickey’s neck, “Missed you too Mickey. I love you”. 

Mickey ran his hands through the red hair that he loved so much, 

“You need anything? Want some water? I saw some juice in the fridge”. 

“Nah, I’m good Mick. Let’s just sit here together”. 

He chuckled, “Well I wasn’t gonna get the juice, throw it at your ass and run for the fucking elevator, man”. 

Ian laughed, “Shut the fuck up. That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You prick”. 

He kissed the top of Ian’s head, “I’m your prick”. 

He lit another cigarette and Ian took it from his fingers, “Yeah, you are. You’re mine”. 

Mickey looked deep into his eyes “And you’re mine Ian. All mine”. 

He blinked back tears and said, “So I was thinking about what you said. I really believe that I forgave you Ian. When you asked if we could try again, I forgave you then. Sure, it still hurts when I think too hard about it. I still get mad sometimes, but I want to be with you. Never any doubt about that. You gotta believe that at least”. 

Ian sat up and studied him closely, “Of course I believe you. But tell me what you’re thinking those times you get mad about it. Maybe we start there. Yeah”? 

He nodded, “Ok. Well I think about how it felt sitting in that shitty cell wondering why you wouldn’t take my calls. Why you wouldn’t visit me. I was so damn lonely Ian. I was lost. I had no one, nothing. No one cared if I lived or died. Before you, I never let myself feel lonely. Maybe I just didn’t know I was lonely. I didn’t want to be around people anyway, so it didn’t fucking matter. But you came along and made me feel things. Made me want things. Then you just left me to rot. You forgot about me. Like I was garbage or some shit, disposable. Who does that shit? How the fuck do you just stop loving someone like that? How could I have been so wrong about us? I could never figure it out”. 

He was breathing hard when he stopped talking. He lifted Ian up and sat him on a chair, “Gonna get us that juice now”. 

Ian was not surprised, but he was struck by the anger he heard in Mickey’s voice and the pain he saw in his eyes. Not for the first time, he wondered if they could get past this. It was so fucked up. They were so fucked up.

Mickey came back with two glasses filled with orange juice. He wouldn’t meet Ian’s eyes as he set the glasses down. Ian was fidgeting with his hands in his lap, 

“Mickey I don’t have a good answer for you. There isn’t one. Nothing I can say that I haven’t already said. I hurt you beyond anything I can ever imagine. Just let’s keep talking. I’m listening. I need to hear it. You need to say it. All of it this time”. 

Mickey drank some juice, lit a cigarette and looked at him,   
“You really think bringing all this shit back up, making you feel like shit will help? Me getting mad about it will help us how Ian? Seems to me it’ll just put more distance between us. I don’t know man”. 

“What else we got huh? We wanna be together. We gotta find our way back. I want us back. My life is nothing without you. Sure, we can get along without each other just fine. We’ve proven that. But I don’t want to get along without you. I want to live my life with you Mickey. We gotta face the hurt together. All the hurt and resentment. Yours and mine. I’m gonna start the coffee”. 

Mickey sat there alone, weighing Ian’s words. He was beginning to understand that they were in real trouble. Really serious fucking trouble. He started out thinking that his cheating was the problem. 

Fix that shit, move the fuck on. But that was only a symptom of the real problem. Motherfucker. Shit. Shit. Ian was right, they needed to sit in this shit till they got it right or they were fucking done for good this time. 

They were sitting at the kitchen counter with their coffee when Ian’s phone beeped. He groaned when he saw a text from Lip, “Pulling up. Start coffee”. 

He muttered, “Shit” as he slid his phone over to Mickey. 

Mickey grinned, “Should be interesting”. 

While Ian was letting Lip in, Mickey decided he’d make the asshole’s day and serve him coffee. 

Lip walked in, “Hey. Thought I’d stop by since you finally told us where you are. Living large much”? 

Ian smirked, “Shut the fuck up. Sit down asshole”. 

As Lip was about to sit, Mickey sauntered in holding a tray with three cups of coffee, “Coffees up. Shall we sit gents”? 

Ian laughed, “Thanks Mick. Sit down Lip. You said wanted coffee”. 

Lip glared at them both and sat down. 

Mickey placed a cup in front of Ian, “For you baby”, he placed a cup in front of Lip “For you Phillip, and a cup for me. Bottoms up gents”. 

Ian was laughing so hard tears were rolling down his cheeks. He glanced at Lip and laughed even harder. 

Lip snapped, “The fuck you laughing at man? Shit ain’t funny. Should’ve said he was here”. 

“You didn’t give him a chance Phillip. You were already here. But I don’t mind. Want some breakfast? You gonna be here long”? Mickey asked in an exaggeratedly polite voice.

Lip snapped, “Fuck you Mickey. You don’t have any say here. This is Ian’s apartment. He left your ass remember”? 

Ian wiped his eyes and moved closer to Mickey, “Alright Lip calm the fuck down. Mickey can say or do anything he wants. You are the visitor here. Now, he asked if you want breakfast. What’re we having Mick?” 

He smiled sweetly, “Well I was thinking pancakes. I saw blueberries and bananas in there. Which one Phillip? We got eggs, bacon, not sure about sausage. What you think Phillip? Omelet maybe? Any of that tickle your fucking fancy”? 

Ian was laughing again. Lip glared at Mickey, “Fuck it. Yeah, I’m staying. I don’t care what you cook, you prick”. 

Mickey stood up and sauntered off to the kitchen, “By the way Phillip, no smoking in here. Free to use the patio though. It’s this way”. 

Ian looked at his brother, “You shouldn’t let him get to you like that. You need to accept that we will always be together. We love each other. Nothing you can do about it”. 

He went to take his pills while Lip sat there alone fuming. When the fuck did this happen? Prancing his happy ass around like he lives here. Has he moved in? Why couldn’t he just leave Ian alone? Gotta be other guys out there that’ll take his thuggish, faggot ass. Fuck. 

Later that morning after Lip left, they cuddled together on the over-sized sofa and fell asleep. Mickey’s phone woke them up. He snatched it up, it was a text from John. Shit. 

“Can you pick up some things for me? Didn’t have a chance to pack. Anytime today is fine. See you then”.   
Ian noticed how angry Mickey seemed, he asked, 

“What’s wrong? They need you at work”? 

Mickey stood up and gave his phone to Ian, “I’m getting a beer. Want one”? 

He read the text, “Where is he Mickey”? 

He came back with two open beers, handed one to Ian and took a long gulp of his before sitting back down. 

He took Ian’s hand and explained what happened at the hospital yesterday. 

Ian sighed, “What does he want you to do? Go shopping for him? Go to his house? You got a key to his house Mickey”? 

He laughed bitterly, his leg was bouncing, “I don’t give a fuck what he wants. He can call his family. Who the fuck ever. I told him not to call me again. Told him I was done. You were there Ian. You heard me, and no I don’t have a key. He tried to give me one, wouldn’t take it. Never wanted it. I didn’t want that with him”. 

Ian took a gulp of his beer and put his hand on Mickey’s knee to still the bouncing, “Well what are we gonna do? If he’s having surgery, he’ll need some shit. How long do they keep you after something like that”? 

He spoke sharply, “Fuck if I know. We ain’t doing shit Ian. I ain’t doing shit. He can call somebody else. Crazy ass motherfucker. I don’t know why he won’t stop this shit. Needs his fucking ass beat, bet he’ll understand that shit”. 

“Mickey he’s gonna have surgery, you can’t beat his ass. You’re a hospital employee”. 

“I ain’t no fucking medical professional though”. 

Ian rubbed his back soothingly, laughing all the while, “Why don’t you see what he needs and we’ll both take it to him”? 

Mickey laughed, “That’ll give him a fucking coronary. Let’s do it”. 

He grabbed his phone and shot off a quick text. John sent a list, ending with, “Knew I could count on you. See you soon”. 

Mickey was still laughing looking forward to seeing the look on John’s face when Ian walked in the hospital room, 

“They better have his ass hooked up to those fucking monitors, cause when he sees you, he’ll fucking flatline”. 

Ian rolled his eyes and followed Mickey out the door.

After a brief stop at Mickey’s office they took the elevator to the surgery floor where John had been moved. 

He was reading when Mickey knocked on his door, “Come in”. 

He closed his book and ran his fingers through his curly hair. Gotta be Mickey. Knew he wouldn’t let me down. 

He was confused, but happy to see the big smile on Mickey’s face given the things he said in the E R yesterday. He had probably just been upset because that damn nurse, Josh, was lurking around. Whatever. Nobody could interrupt them in here. He had a private room now. 

He matched Mickey’s smile, “Hey Mickey, come on in. Had them bring a chair for you. Come on over here and sit down. You’re gonna stay for a while, aren’t you? I knew I could depend on you”. 

Ian stepped around Mickey holding a Walmart bag,   
“No John. We won’t be staying. We’ve got plans but we wanted to make sure you have what you need. How are you feeling? Need me to pour you some water”? 

He blinked rapidly, “Ian. What are you doing here? Mickey”? 

Mickey stood in the doorway, happy smile in place,   
“Something wrong man? I think we got everything on your list. Give him the bag baby”. 

Ian smiled sweetly as he walked to the bed and set the bag firmly in the chair meant for Mickey, “Right here alright since Mickey won’t be using it”? 

John glared at him and snapped, “That’s fine. Thank you, Ian. Mickey you got a minute”? 

He quirked an eyebrow, “Sure man, shoot”. 

He looked pointedly at Ian, “I meant alone Mickey”. 

Ian waved his hands, smile in place, “Oh, don’t mind me John. Go ahead, of course we can spare you a minute. Right Mick”? 

Mickey was full on laughing now, this fucker’s face was priceless, “Whatever you say baby”. 

John was incensed, he snapped, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on. I asked you to come Mickey. Why did you bring him? You know I wanted to see you”. 

Ian dusted his hands together, “Tsk Tsk John. Calm down man. Can’t have you getting all upset. Can’t be good for your surgery. What do you think Mick”? 

“I don’t know baby and I don’t fucking care. You’re the paramedic here. Maybe we should just get the fuck outta here before he blows a fucking gasket or something”. 

Ian considered the situation in an overly dramatic fashion, “Good idea. Well then, tootles John”. 

He gave John an exaggerated wave and walked out, with Mickey following closely behind. 

They heard John yell, “Fucking assholes. Fuck you Mickey,” as they walked down the hall laughing, earning themselves disapproving looks from the nursing staff. 

As they stood waiting for the elevator, Mickey quipped,   
“Think we can find anybody else to piss off today? First Lip, and now that asshole”. 

It felt like they were teenagers again, fucking with people and running away laughing their asses off.

It was after 3 o’clock and they were back at Ian’s apartment, sprawled out comfortably on separate sofas. Something was nagging at Ian. He wanted to know more about John. He felt like he was missing an important piece of information. So much shit just didn’t make sense. Did they history? How did they meet? When? Why was he so determined to hold on to Mickey? Why was he so damn insistent? It was if he thought he had a right to Mickey. 

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he startled when Mickey eased down behind him and wrapped his arms around him. He didn’t even know that Mickey had left the other sofa. 

Mickey’s voice was quiet, “What’re you thinking about so hard”? 

Ian turned in his arms, regarding him intently, “Tell me about John”. 

Mickey sighed in resignation, “Ok. What do you wanna know”? 

His reply was simple, “Everything”. 

“He’s Sara’s paralegal. That’s how I met him. I broke up with him when you came back in the picture. When we decided to try again. I stopped seeing him then Ian, I swear. I broke it off completely”. 

“Ok. So, what happened Mickey? You just decided one day that you made a mistake? I didn’t live up to your expectations? You couldn’t live without him? What the fuck was it? Why did you go back to him? No wonder he acts like you belong to him. He knows you’ll probably change your fucking mind again. Is he right Mickey? If he waits long enough, you’ll go back to him again”? 

He got up and stalked to the kitchen. Mickey sat there holding his head in his hands, knee bouncing.   
Ian stalked back with two beers, slammed them down on the coffee table, and flopped down on the other end of the sofa. Mickey looked up at him, when he saw the tears on Ian’s cheeks, he scooted closer and reached out, but Ian jerked back violently, “Don’t Mickey. Don’t fucking touch me right now”. 

He asked softly, “Do you want me to leave”? 

With tears flowing freely, Ian whispered, “Yes. You should go. I know I asked you to tell me, but I can’t, I just can’t right now”. 

Mickey drank his beer in two long gulps. There were unshed tears in his eyes when he stood up, “I’m sorry Ian. I’m so sorry. Can I call you tomorrow? Please”? 

Ian nodded sharply, walked into his bedroom avoiding Mickey’s eyes, and closed the door softly. Mickey sat back down, resting his head on the back of the sofa. 

How the fuck did a day that started out perfect end in shit? 

He knew that Ian felt betrayed all over again. He understood that feeling. Hell, he could tell Ian all about feeling betrayed, but he had closed the door on Mickey. 

Shut him out, and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. 

They took one step forward and two backward. Maybe this was the process. Well fuck the damn process. 

He drank the beer Ian had left, tidied up a bit and walked over to Ian’s bedroom door, and stood there quietly, chewing on his bottom lip. 

He made his decision, hoping it was the right one, he took a deep breath, opened the door slowly and went in. 

Ian was laying on top of the comforter staring dry-eyed at the ceiling. Without a word, Mickey walked over to the side of the bed he had slept on last night, toed his shoes off, and crawled in next to him. He wrapped his arms around Ian and held on tight. 

He woke up a few hours later to Ian’s soft snores. He was sprawled across Mickey’s body, one hand wrapped securely around his arm. 

Mickey smiled and kissed the top of his head, twisting the fingers of his free hand in Ian’s soft hair. He was glad he had decided stay, and judging from the position of his body, Ian was glad too. But he would want answers when he woke up. 

He eased Ian off him and quietly got up. He needed a fucking cigarette, he was scared shitless.

When Ian woke up the room was dark, and Mickey’s side of the bed was empty. He glanced at the clock and groaned, it was after 8 o’clock. Shit. He had planned to email the corrections to the presentation they were working on to Charles. Shit. He’d get it done in the morning. 

He went to the bathroom to get his pills wondering if Mickey was hungry. 

He found him sitting on the patio smoking. The ashtray was full. 

Mickey turned around when he heard him,   
“Finally woke up huh? Sleep good”? 

Ian smiled, “Yeah. What about you”? 

He chewed his bottom lip and averted his gaze,   
“A little bit. Too much on my mind”. 

Ian regarded him closely, “Oh. Hungry? I gotta eat, need to take my pills”. 

Mickey followed him into the kitchen, “I could eat. Let me fix us something. What do you feel like”? 

Ian was really hungry, “The steaks that Charles bought are still in there. Those with a salad, fries or mashed potatoes”? 

Mickey had opened the fridge when he abruptly turned around to face him, “Charles bought you steaks”? 

Ian was on his way to the patio to inspect the grill, he said over his shoulder, “Yeah. He shopped for me when I moved here. Stocked the cabinets and everything”. 

He took the steaks out, put them in the sink and followed Ian to the patio,   
“So he shops for you? That what assistants do these days? Answering fucking phones and typing not enough to keep his ass busy”? 

Ian turned and looked squarely at him, “He’s plenty busy with those things. Trust me. He wanted to make sure I had what I needed when I moved here. Guess he sees it as part of his job. He’s just thoughtful like that”. 

Mickey snorted, “Thoughtful, yeah. Sure”. 

Ian smirked, “He takes flower deliveries too. But you know all about that huh Mick”? 

He ignored the comment and asked, “He still shopping for you, thoughtful fucker that he is”? 

Ian stepped around him on his way back to the kitchen, “I shop for myself Mickey. He did it then because he knew I was moving in that day. He just wanted to help out”. 

He planted himself in front of Ian, “How did he know you were moving in? You share personal information with your assistant? Clear it with him or some shit? That in the VP manual”? 

Ian laughed and walked around him, “What the fuck are you even talking about? He knew I was moving in because I had him messenger the key to me”. 

He was standing at the sink humming as he prepared the steaks for the grill.   
He looked over at Mickey, “Fries or mashed Mickey”? 

Mickey didn’t like that shit one bit. He knew why the asshole was so fucking thoughtful. He would definitely take care of that shit later. 

For now, he answered, “You like fries better. Did thoughtful Charles think to buy frozen fucking potatoes”?   
“No, but I did. Wanna get them out please? I’m fucking starving. We only had breakfast today”. 

Mickey found the potatoes and put them on the counter while Ian put the steaks on the grill. 

He stood there thinking about what Ian had told him about the day he moved out. So, Charles had known about them from the beginning, knew that Ian had left him. Ian had planned his move carefully. It wasn’t done in haste at all, it wasn’t done in a fit of anger. It had been methodical. Makes sense because Ian had been calm, too fucking calm when he walked up on them. 

Now more than ever, he needed to know when Ian found out and how he found out. Should he ask him? Did he even have the right to question him about anything? 

He sighed deeply as he prepared the skillet for the fries. They worked together in silence to get dinner on the table. They stuck to light topics as they ate, enjoying their meal and each other’s company. 

They had eaten dinner and loaded the dishwasher, now they were sitting on the patio with their beers. 

Mickey spoke first, “I don’t know if I have the right to ask, but will you tell me how you found out Ian”? 

He stared out into the night, “I saw his text. The one where he was waiting for you to bring ‘his ass’ to him, he had a few rounds for it. Said for you to hurry up and get there. Remember that one”? 

Mickey looked at the floor and sighed deeply, “I’m so sorry you saw that Ian. But why didn’t you say something? Did you want to catch me in the act or something”? 

His green eyes were flashing with anger,   
“What exactly would I have said Mickey? I already knew you were fucking somebody, I just didn’t know who until then. I already knew you weren’t fucking me like you used too. I already knew you wanted to be with him. I already knew you lied and schemed to be with him time after time. I already knew that you started arguments with me just so you could go to him. I already knew everything I needed to know. The better question is, why the fuck didn’t you talk to me before you started fucking him? Why didn’t you tell me you were unhappy? It was clear to me that he made you happy. It was clear to me that I needed to get the fuck out of your way. I didn’t say anything because you never gave me the chance to fix what the fuck ever was wrong. I didn’t have a voice in it. You and John were the fucking shot callers. That’s why I didn’t fucking say anything Mickey”. 

He took a long gulp of his beer and lit two cigarettes, passed one to Ian,   
“You knew all that and just let me keep on lying and cheating. How could you not say anything Ian? You’ve never held your tongue before. I just don’t understand why you kept quiet, how you even managed it. Whenever I thought you might suspect something, I told myself you wouldn’t be able keep quiet if you knew. I was so wrong about so many things. I’m so sorry”. 

Ian’s shoulders were tense, his jaw set, “I thought you were in love with him Mickey. I just couldn’t imagine you cheating for any other reason. I thought you wanted him and just didn’t know how to tell me. I left so you could be with him and not feel guilty. So you could be free, so you could be happy”.   
Ian was crying now, letting his tears fall unchecked. 

Mickey didn’t know if he should touch him, so he went to the kitchen for the tissues. He handed some to Ian and sat back down,   
“Ian I never loved him. Never wanted to spend my life with anyone but you. No matter what happens, I need you to believe that at least”. 

He wiped his face and looked directly into Mickey’s eyes,   
“Then tell me why Mickey. Why did you go back to him? You fucking went back to him. He isn’t someone you met one day and decided you liked him, wanted to fuck him. He’s a man that you had a relationship with once. You knew everything about him, had memories of your time together, and you decided you wanted him back Mickey. Explain that shit to me. And don’t fucking sit there and tell me you don’t fucking know why, because you fucking do know why”. 

He was furiously chewing his inner cheek, “Ian I always knew how he felt about me. I told him I wasn’t looking for anything serious when we first started out. He said he understood. I knew that he was in love with me, and I knew I would never want to have a life with him, knew that I could never love him. I only want you, that’s why I went to see you that night at your family’s house. I couldn’t stay away any longer. I had to see you Ian. You’re under my skin man. Always have been. What can I do? But back to your question. I should’ve stopped seeing him. I know that, knew it then. I guess I just felt safe with him because I didn’t love him. He couldn’t hurt me like you had. He didn’t have any power over me. I was in control of the whole thing. For once in my shitty life I had complete control over what happened to me”. 

Mickey’s gaze never wavered from Ian’s face while he was speaking, he grabbed some tissues and wiped his tears, waiting for Ian to speak. 

Ian lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply, “I guess I can understand that on some level. I know that you never had much control over your life. Very little, actually. So yeah, I get that you would seize control whenever you could. But that doesn’t explain why you went back to him Mickey. You said that I was what you wanted. We were together. Happy, I thought. I tried every way I could to make you happy. To let you know how sorry I was for abandoning you. Tried every day to let you know how much you meant to me, how much I valued our relationship. We’re out of the south side, away from that fucking maniac Terry and your pussy ass brothers. Hell, I held a shotgun on their asses while you beat the hell out of Terry. That didn’t mean shit to you huh? Didn’t give you enough fucking control? How did he give you control Mick? The way he fucked you? When he was all up in that tight ass, that make you feel in control? That the control he gave you? He pounded that ass real hard? He knows how you like it. Knows that ass real good, huh Mickey? Knows how to make that ass hole twitch for his dick huh? That why you went back to him Mickey? Just fucking tell me why him”?

He lit another cigarette, “Ian you know that I appreciate what you did that day. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have walked away without a scratch on me. Especially when Iggy came back with my fucking brothers. Thanks to you I kicked Terry’s ass, and you made those fuckers stand there and watch me do it, and I got to tell them just what I thought of their pussy asses. Yes, you gave me control that day. Immense control Ian, and I thank you for that. I’ll always be grateful. It was amazing, you were amazing man. Now, you asked why him, and I’ve been thinking hard about that Ian. I think that I was scared. Scared that I was too happy, was starting to feel too secure with you, starting to let my guard down. Didn’t know if I could trust it. What if you changed your mind again? Deep down I never really thought I deserved you. Your family certainly agrees with that, and you never stood up to them in the past. Let them say whatever shit they wanted. You’d just shrug your damn shoulders like you couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. Even my own sister doesn’t think I’m good enough for you, and she’s your best fucking friend. What kinda shit is that for real? Sure, you finally put your foot down and I appreciate it, but the dye was cast a long time ago. I remember it all Ian, every single insult, every slight. Terry never let a single day pass without making sure that I knew what a piece of shit I was. So, I guess somewhere along the way I started to believe them, all of them. I didn’t have to deal with any of that shit with John. I was always number one with him. From day one I was number one. He was just there, loving me for who I am. That’s all I got man”.   
Ian went to the fridge for more beer. He opened them and gave one to mickey. He took a long gulp of his and looked over at Mickey, 

“That’s a lot. A fucking lot Mickey. So how are we supposed to make it work if you can’t trust me? I know how horribly I treated you, I know that I let my family treat you like shit, and I know how Mandy feels, but I’ve really tried to do better. I told them all that if they can’t treat you with respect, they are not welcome in our home, and I haven’t gone back on that. You know that Mickey. I don’t know what else I can do to make you trust me. I don’t know how to give you the control you so desperately need. I honestly don’t know. Seems like you need John so you can feel safe. You need him, not me”. 

He didn’t know what the fuck to say to all that. He sighed deeply,   
“Ian, I don’t need him. I don’t want him. I think you know that. I know this is all on me, my shit. I fucked up all by myself. I’ll figure it out, but I can’t be without you. I just can’t. When I found out that you were gone that night, I think I almost had a heart attack baby. Please don’t make me go away. I’ll figure it out. I swear I will. Don’t send me away”. 

Ian reached over and clasped his hands, “Mickey I’m not sending you away and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll work through this shit storm together. I don’t know how, but we’ll figure it out together. Like always. I got you baby”. 

He smiled gratefully, “We can do anything when we’re together. I love you Ian”. 

Ian kissed him, sucking on his bottom lip, “Love you too Mickey. We’ll keep talking it through. Keep being honest about our feelings”. 

“Yeah, we’ll keep talking about our fucking feelings. Thank you for sticking with me after what I put you through. For not giving up on me. On us”. 

Ian smiled softly, “I would forgive you for anything Mick. You are my love. You have forgiven me for so much. Always been there for me. Trying to make things better for me. I will love you forever. I promise you that”. 

Tears were rolling down Mickey’s face as he listened. Ian pulled him onto his lap and held him tightly as he kissed his tears away. They sat like that far into the night.


	27. A Sunday Kind of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian sets it out for Mickey. He suggests that they might need to have a different conversation. 
> 
> Mickey completes several important tasks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present day.

On Sunday morning Ian woke up to find Mickey staring at him “What’re you doing Mickey? I got drool or something”? 

“No baby. Counting your freckles. My favorite past- time. Used to do it every morning,” said Mickey smiling tenderly. 

Ian yawned widely “I didn’t know that. How come I didn’t know that”? 

“Because you were always asleep when I did it. You just woke up and caught me this time”. He leaned over and kissed the tip of Ian’s nose, smiling happily. 

Ian turned to face him “I’m glad you’re here Mick. I’ve missed you for so long. Glad you came back to me. I was scared I’d lost you for good this time. Thought you didn’t love me anymore”. 

His heart clenched, “I’m so sorry Ian. For hurting you like that. I’ve been so lost without you. Even before you found out, I was lost. When I saw that you had left   
me, had moved out, and you wouldn’t see me, wouldn’t talk to me, I didn’t know how I could go on. I don’t know what to do without you. I don’t want to do   
without you. You’re everything to me. You’re my life Ian. Thank you for even considering giving me another chance. I fucked up so bad”. 

Tears welled up in his eyes as he listened to Mickey. He knew they had a long, hard road ahead. He placed a large hand on Mickey’s face,   
“We’ll figure it out together. I got you. Always and forever. I got you baby. You’re my man Mick. Mine”. 

Mickey pulled him in for a kiss, and when Ian tried to end the kiss, Mickey held on to him laughing. He struggled to break free, “Gotta piss. Mickey let me up. I   
gotta piss. You wanna spend Sunday doing laundry? Let me up, you prick”. 

Mickey finally let him go and he ran into the bathroom mumbling. Mickey got up and stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, “You trying to tell me you do your own laundry? Thought you’d have somebody to take care of that for you. Don’t women still do day work? Get Charles to look into that shit”. 

Ian laughed as he washed his hands and took his pills down, “Shut the fuck up Mickey. I do my own damn laundry and I never heard of day work. Just some shit you made up”. 

He quirked an eyebrow, “You telling me that Fiona didn’t do day work when she was trying feed all y’all hungry asses? I bet she did day work and night work trying to feed y’all asses. Ask her sometime, she’ll tell you”. 

Ian laughed, “Whatever Mickey. You’re just making shit up. What do you want for breakfast? I gotta take my pills”. 

They wrestled each other to the kitchen. 

Mickey opened the fridge, “Sit. You did most of the cooking last night. What do you want”? 

“We could have cereal. That OK”? 

Mickey washed his hands at the sink and took the milk and OJ out, while Ian took the cereal down. They settled down to eat with their legs tangled together. 

Ian asked, “What do you wanna to do today? I need to get some work done. Won’t take long though”. 

After swallowing his mouthful of cereal Mickey said, “I need to go to the apartment to shower and change clothes before I do anything. Won’t take me long either”. 

Ian studied him intently and made a snap decision, “Wanna move in here for a while? See how it goes? Unless you think it’s too soon”. 

He dropped his spoon and grabbed Ian’s face in both his hands, “Yes. I wanna move in here with you. I really do. I want to be wherever you are. Been dreading going back to that apartment without you. We’ll make it work. Thank you, baby. Thank you”. 

Ian was grinning, “Wanted to ask you last night, but we fell asleep on the patio and I had to carry your snoring ass to bed”. 

“I wondered how I got in the bed. I don’t snore, too fucking cultured for that shit”. 

Ian rolled his eyes and finished his cereal.

After Mickey left, Ian emailed the corrections to his presentation to Charles with a note apologizing for being a day late. 

He responded immediately, “I was thinking that we could work on it together. I’m free all day. I could come to your place”. 

Ian sighed when he read the email. He knew that Charles was attracted to him, and he still thought it was his job to protect him from Mickey, and from his family. Given the mess his private life was in when they started working together, he understood. He had depended on Charles to keep everyone away, but now things were different. He didn’t have any experience handling a situation like this. 

Should he tell him that he and Mickey were back together? Let him figure it out for himself? He knew that Mickey was wary of Charles, even a bit jealous, and he didn’t want a big blow up. He’d talk to Mickey about it, see what he thought. 

He answered the email, “Thanks Charles but I think we’ll be fine. I didn’t make many corrections. We can review everything tomorrow morning. Enjoy your day”.

Mickey was sitting on the bed in his apartment trying to decide what he would bring with him to Ian’s apartment. He had shopped for Mrs. Berry and tidied up her apartment, glad to see that she was feeling better. He had assured her that he would arrange an Uber for her doctor’s appointment next week. 

Now he sat there replaying Ian asking him if he wanted to move in. He wanted to, he really did. But he was scared. What if they couldn’t get past this shit? 

How was he going to get John to leave him the fuck alone? Would he have to beat his ass? Shit. He didn’t want John, but he knew how the guy felt about him, and he felt guilty. 

Should he feel guilty? What exactly did he feel guilty about? He had known about Ian, so why did he feel guilty? The guy was so damn vulnerable. 

Should he let Theo know that John was in the hospital? Fuck. He didn’t know what to fucking do. He had fucked up all their lives. Maybe he’d talk to Ian about it. He went to the fridge for a beer and sat on the balcony deep in thought.

A couple hours later, the doorman was helping Mickey load his things on a cart, “Mr. Gallagher called down to make sure a cart was available for you Mr. Milkovich”. 

“Thanks Lester. Just call me Mickey”. 

Ian was waiting when he got off the elevator. They unloaded the cart and Ian called down to have someone pick it up. After they put Mickey’s things away Ian said, “I’m getting hungry. Wanna go out for lunch? I don’t feel like cooking. Or you wanna order in”? 

“We can go out. Nothing fancy though”. 

They settled on a bistro in walking distance. When they were seated Ian said, “They have a bean stew to die for”. 

Mickey looked skeptical, “Take your word for it. What else is good? What’s the cassoulet like”? 

“It’s a casserole, lots of meat. You’ll like it,” Ian told him. 

While they waited for their food Mickey asked him, “You come here a lot”? 

“Not a lot. Try to cook whenever I can. But when I work late it’s usually here or pizza”. 

Mickey smiled happily, “Now I can have dinner ready when you work late. That happen a lot with the new job”? 

He felt bad, he knew next to nothing about Ian’s life. Charles knew more about his man’s life than he did. His first job was to fix that shit. 

“Depends on what’s going on. Still trying to prove myself, you know? Charles is great. He mostly knows what my bosses expect. That’s a plus, makes things easier for me,” Ian said as he rested his hand on one of Mickey’s.

Mickey was listening intently, “Glad you got him looking out for you. He work there a long time or something”? 

“Yeah. He worked for the VP I replaced. He knows the job and the people. Not everyone wants me in that position you know. Lotta resentment”. 

Mickey’s quirked an eyebrow, “Why? Cause you’re so young”? 

“That, and I haven’t been with the company as long as some of the other people that competed for the position. Some people think my ideas are too radical, that they aren’t practical, they won’t work”. 

He thought about all the times he had tried to talk to Mickey about this very thing. He swallowed down his resentment and focused on now. 

Mickey snarked, “Well fuck them. I know you worked hard on that proposal”. 

Ian couldn’t help himself, he spoke harshly, “How do you know Mickey? How do you know how hard I worked? You were barely home then. You weren’t interested in me or in anything I was doing”.

Mickey was glad their drinks had arrived. Fuck. He’s right. Jesus. He took a large gulp of his Jack and coke as he met Ian’s eyes, 

“I know I wasn’t around Ian. I know that I wasn’t supportive. I treated you like shit, and I am sorry. But I did see you working on the proposal. Saw how hard you were working. I’m sorry for being an asshole. I promise to be better. I’ll make it up to you baby”. 

Ian swallowed and averted his eyes, “I know Mickey. I shouldn’t have said that. That was wrong”. 

Mickey leaned over and tilted his head up, “Hey, look at me. You have every right. I understand your anger. You depended on me, needed my support, and I wasn’t there for you. We need to be open and honest about our feelings. That’s what you said. That’s what we’ll do”. 

Ian kissed his hand and smiled softly, “Ok Mick. That’s what we’ll do”. 

They went for a long walk after they left the bistro. Ian acclimated Mickey to the neighborhood, pointing out shops and landmarks for him. 

They were back in the apartment sitting at the kitchen counter when Mickey asked, “Finish what you were working on”? 

“Yep. Emailed the corrections to Charles while you were gone. All done. I’m all yours”. 

Mickey stood and kissed the top of Ian’s head on his way to the fridge. He took out a beer for himself and a water Ian, “When are we going shopping? Wanna make sure I have shit to cook for dinner all week. I saw a Whole Foods, that where you go”? 

“Yeah mostly. Sometimes when I’m in a hurry I go to that small store I showed you. They deliver there. We can shop tomorrow if you want.” 

Mickey sipped his beer, “You sure? My schedule is more flexible. Oh yeah, meant to tell you that I shopped for Mrs. Berry. Tidied up some and I gotta get her an Uber for her appointment next week. She said she’s feeling better. Damn sure looks better. Said to give you her love. Misses you stopping by. Your fucking charm and shit”. 

Ian smiled, “I’ve been calling her. Glad she’s getting better. I was starting to worry, with her age and all. Gonna make time to stop by next week. Glad you’re taking such good care of her. When we talk, she tells me how much she appreciates you. You’re a good guy Mickey. My good guy”. 

He smiled bashfully, “Well, she don’t got nobody else. We stepped up. No big deal. She was always bringing us food. Shit was good too, especially her pies and fried chicken”. 

Ian agreed whole heartedly. He wondered if he should bring up his concerns about Charles now or just figure it out for himself. 

He startled when he heard Mickey say, “Hey man. Where you at? What’s on your mind? Talk to me”. 

He took a deep breath, “I was thinking about Charles. When I started there I sorta pushed him into monitoring who I saw and didn’t want to see. He was there the day John walked in. Who knows what he thought about that shit show. He had to deal with Fiona and Lip. Pretty sure Lip was a total asshole to him. Not to mention your daily flower deliveries. I just don’t know how to handle it. I mean we’re back together, do I tell him? Is it his business since I dragged him into it”? 

Mickey regarded him closely, “He ever say anything about any of it”? 

“No. He mostly emailed me when someone was out there. Once he told me not to worry, he had my back. Never said much at all”. 

Mickey took a long gulp of his beer and sat back, “You don’t owe him shit. You’re not equals. He’s your employee, not your co-worker. Sue was your co-worker. There’s a difference Ian. Pretty sure his job is to go with fucking flow. You don’t explain shit to him. If you think he needs clarification, I’m happy to clarify for him”. 

Ian laughed, “I know you are. I think you’re right though. I’ve never been a boss before. Lotta things I’m not sure of, you know? Used to being on equal footing with the people I work with. Yeah, this is different”. 

Mickey leaned over and stroked his face, “I’m so proud of you man. You are thoughtful and considerate. People respect that in their boss. You’re already a success in my book. Just so damn sorry I wasn’t there for you in the beginning. I wasn’t there to ease your doubts, remind you how great you are. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. But I do have one request”. 

“Whatever you need Mickey. What is it”? 

Mickey’s tone was sharp, “Tell that prick that I got your back now. He can focus on his fucking job. Filing his nails, answering the phone and shit. I got the rest”. 

Ian laughed, but Mickey was dead serious. He had seen the way he stood on the sidewalk that day, staring as Ian walked away. He never liked the guy’s proprietary manner toward Ian. He had been dealing with guys who wanted Ian for a long time. He’d let him know to back the fuck up. What the fuck ever he was thinking wasn’t gonna happen.

He stood up and took Ian’s hand, “Let’s go out. I wanna smoke. All this talking”. 

Ian smiled fondly and stood up, stopping to take two beers from the fridge on his way out. 

Mickey lit two cigarettes and passed one to him, “I been thinking a lot about why I was with John”. 

He felt Ian tense up, but he kept talking, “If you don’t wanna have this conversation we don’t have to. But I just need some help sorting shit out in my head”. 

Ian was sitting ramrod straight by now, “Go ahead”. 

Mickey smoked silently for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He didn’t really know how to put his feelings about John into words.   
Sure, he had gotten better about expressing his feelings over the years, but he didn’t want to make Ian mad. Didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already had. 

He lit another cigarette and turned to face him, “I guess I feel guilty”. 

Ian narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring, he snapped, “Guilty about what exactly? Guilty about us getting back together? Guilty cause you stopped seeing him? Guilty cause I won’t let you fuck us both? Did you feel guilty when you were fucking him Mickey? Did you feel guilty while I waited for you to drag your fucked-out ass home huh? Ever wonder how long I knew you were out fucking somebody else? I didn’t just find out the night I walked up on your cheating ass. I knew weeks before that. Ever feel guilty about that shit huh? Or is your fucking guilt just for him”? 

He was so mad he was shaking, he snatched the cigarettes up and lit one, then stubbed it out and stood up, “I need a fucking drink behind this shit. Fucking John. Fuck his ass and fuck you Mickey”. 

He stomped back inside leaving Mickey sitting there with his head reeling, and muttering, “Shit, god damn it. Should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut”. 

How the fuck could I expect him to sit and have a conversation about the guy I fucked? About my guilt over leaving the guy. Jesus. 

He didn’t know if he should follow Ian inside, so he drained his beer and started drinking the one Ian had brought out for himself.

Ian was fuming as he slammed around making drinks. He knew that he needed to calm the fuck down. He knew they needed to talk through all of it, but he had no sympathy for John’s dumb, cheating ass. 

The motherfucker had known that Mickey was with somebody when he started fucking him. His ass set out to take Mickey away from me. And Mickey is feeling guilty? About fucking what? Maybe Mickey thinks that me and John should share his damn ass. Thinks he’s got enough ass for both of us. Would that help his fucking guilt? The motherfucker. Ian took a large gulp of his drink and then refilled his glass. 

He took a deep breath, walked back out to the patio, and slammed the glasses down on the table, then hurled himself into his chair. 

Mickey looked at the drinks sloshing around in the glasses, then looked over at Ian, “Man you need to calm down. Sorry I upset you. Let’s just fucking drop it. Find something else to talk about”. 

Ian wouldn’t look at him, “I’m fine. Go on, tell me all about your guilt over John. I wanna hear it. All of it”. 

Mickey exhaled the smoke in his lungs, “Ian just calm the fuck down and try to listen. I don’t expect you to understand or be sympathetic. But who else am I gonna talk to about this shit? Ok. I knew how the guy felt about me. I knew he wanted a future with me. I knew that I could never love him, would never want him like wanted me. He was so vulnerable where I was concerned. I…. I just feel guilty”. 

Ian lit a cigarette and took a long drag, “What did you promise him Mickey? Did you make him think that you would leave me? Other than fuck him on the regular, what did you promise his ass”? 

Mickey took a long gulp of his drink, grateful that Ian forgot the coke. He set his glass down and turned to face him, but Ian wouldn’t look at him. 

He took a shaky breath, “I didn’t promise him anything Ian. I was straight with him. Told him that I didn’t feel like he felt. Straight up told him that I loved you. That I would never leave you”. 

Ian finally met his eyes, “What did he say to that? Seems like he didn’t believe you”. 

“Said he understood, wanted me however he could have me. But I knew he had convinced himself that I’d leave you. I knew he was holding out hope. Nothing I said could change his mind”. 

Ian snarked, “Maybe if you had stopped fucking him. Maybe if you had stopped sneaking around, stopped lying to me. That might’ve convinced his ass. What was the fucking attraction if you weren’t looking to leave me? Did he fuck you better than me? Did you fuck him real good Mickey? Did you hit that ass and couldn’t stop? What the fuck was it about him Mickey? What made you seek him out even after you had left him for me?” 

Mickey closed his eyes for a long minute, “It wasn’t the sex Ian. That wasn’t it. It was like I was drawn in by his feelings for me. I didn’t have to do anything, prove anything, just be me. He just wanted me for me. Nothing mattered to him but me. Like I said before, I was safe with him, he couldn’t hurt me because I didn’t love him. He had no fucking control over me. Same as when we were together before you and me got back together. I controlled it. I controlled everything. He knew it and it didn’t matter to him”. 

Mickey took a sip of his drink and sat back. There, he said it. As he was talking, he realized that his need for control is what made John attractive to him. He gave him complete control. Fuck. He wasn’t a control freak. Never had been. When he was growing up, he certainly didn’t have any control. As a matter of fact, he’d never had control over anything that happened in his shitty life. Not until he got out of prison and went home with Sara. She gave him the space and the resources to control his own life. 

He remembered her telling, “I’m giving you what everyone deserves Mick. A chance. Take it. Make a life for yourself”. 

He remembered how broken he had been back then. The difficulty he had feeling worthy of the help she offered. He didn’t feel like he deserved anything good. 

Everyone he ever cared about had shit on him. Abandoned him. Thrown him away like he was rotten piece of garbage. 

Sara and John had given him control. They were the only two people in the world that regarded him positively. How the fuck could he make Ian understand that shit? 

Ian was quietly thinking about the things Mickey had said. He understood Mickey’s need for control. He certainly had never had any. Shit just happened to him and he reacted to the shit. 

Sara was the first person ever to help him. Ian was grateful for that. She changed Mickey’s fucking life. She gave him a chance. For the first time in his life he could make decisions about his own life. Decide what he wanted and go after it. He left the south-side thug persona behind and became who he was meant to be. Without help from anyone from his past. Including me, especially me. They call that self-actualization or some shit. 

He fidgeted with his hands, cleared his throat and whispered,   
“So, he gave you what I couldn’t give you. Made you feel safe. That it Mickey? That what you’re saying”? 

Mickey leaned over and placed a hand over Ian’s hands and spoke softly,   
“I love only you. Always been you. You’re it for me Ian. Apparently, I got some control issues. I realized it while I was talking. I guess my shitty childhood, living under Terry’s rule, just trying to survive every damn day, you breaking up with me, then I got thrown in jail and nobody tried to help me, not one damn person cared enough to make sure I had adequate legal representation. None of you. I was all alone. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t even help myself. I could out think Terry, dodge his punches, run from him, but I couldn’t run from this. It was like I had been sucked into a big dark hole that I would never be able to crawl out of no matter how hard I tried. So, I just gave the fuck up. Ian, I had lost the will to live when Sara showed up. The day I was released, she told me that she had known the first day we met, that I would die if she didn’t get me out of that place. I didn’t even believe she could get me out, and I really didn’t care. I was done. Done with everything, done with everyone. Everybody I ever cared about had left me alone to rot. But day by day, Sara made me hope again. She came to see me every single day. Sometimes we didn’t even work on my case, we’d just sit and talk. It was like she was willing me to fight, to believe in her if I couldn’t believe in myself. Then she took me home with her. Trusted me with her shit. Man, I didn’t know what to think. She took me to the most expensive stores in Chicago to buy my clothes”. 

He chuckled softly, “Told me that she didn’t shop at fucking Walmart, that I just had to accept it. I kept waiting for some rich fuck to stop me as I found my way around the neighborhood. I mean it was fucking Glencoe. What was my thuggish ass doing there? I must’ve been getting ready to rob somebody. Nobody ever fucked with me though. Treated me like a fucking neighbor, a valued customer and shit. Still don’t know she pulled that shit off. When she gave me the truck, I was scared to drive the fucker. Thought for sure I’d get pulled over and she’d have to bail my ass out of jail. Never happened. Fucking cops waved when they saw me. Just like on TV and the movies. Pretty soon I started to feel like I belonged. Even got acquainted with some of the neighbors, talked about the weather and shit, fucking politics. I even started reading the fucking newspaper, so I’d be up on shit. For the first time in my life I saw a future for myself. Felt like I had a place in the world. I actually belonged somewhere. Mickey Milkovich finally belonged somewhere”. 

Ian was crying silently, “I’m so sorry Mickey. Sorry that I didn’t treat you right. Sorry that you were so lost, so alone. I will never forgive myself for abandoning you like that. There is no excuse for that. I was so wrong. I’m so ashamed. Of all of it. The way I let my family treat you, talk about you, how I let Mandy talk about you. I never checked them Mickey. I just let them say what the fuck ever they wanted. I’m so sorry. I promise you I don’t allow it anymore, from any of them. They all know that I’m firmly on your side in everything, no matter what. I just……. I’m so sorry…..I….”. 

Mickey pulled him in and hugged him hard, kissing his head, “I know baby. But we gotta talk about this shit. I know it hurts, but what else we got? That’s what you said”. 

Ian sniffled, “You’re right. I just want you to know how proud I am of you. I’m so proud of you Mickey. And so grateful to Sara. She saved you. Saved you for me”. 

He lifted Ian’s face and kissed the tears away, murmuring,   
“I love you baby. We’ll get through this. Be stronger. Promise. Let’s take a nap. Get you some rest. Ok”? 

He carried Ian to the bedroom bridal style, undressed him down to his boxers and laid him down. He undressed himself and crawled in next to him covering them with their afghan. He pulled Ian into his arms, whispering his undying love in his ear until he heard his soft snores. 

Mickey didn’t fall asleep right away. He lay there thinking about the things he said to Ian, and the feelings those things had evoked in him. The anger. He was coming to understand that maybe Ian was right. Maybe he hadn’t really forgiven him. Maybe he did harbor deep-seated resentment toward him. 

He was very aware of his feelings about Mandy, they bubbled up whenever he was in the same room with her. So, why not with Ian then? Why did he get back together with him? 

They had been together for over three years before he started back up with John. How was that possible if he was so fucking resentful? 

Why didn’t he cheat before then? None of this shit made sense. 

What was going on that made him go back to John? He could’ve found him at any time, and the guy would’ve been plenty willing, been glad to have him back. 

He wracked his brain trying to remember what the fuck was going on in their relationship when he started back up with him. 

Nothing. Everything was good. Ian was finishing up his junior year and he had decided to take a couple semesters off because he wanted to compete for the VP position that was opening up. He’d needed only one med adjustment since they got back together. 

He had earned his B.A two years ago and his job was going well. His program was a success, and the hospital administrator had hinted that he was thinking about merging housekeeping services and building maintenance with Mickey’s other departments. 

They loved their apartment, got along with their neighbors, had made a few friends, their savings was growing. They were solidly middle class Everything was going great. So why? Fucking why? 

He thought back to the day he approached John. That wasn’t the first time Mickey had seen the guy since he and Ian got back together. He had lunch with Sara in her office a couple times a month at least. 

John was always glad to see him, always tried to get him alone to talk. Mickey was always cordial, he didn’t have anything against him, but he kept their interactions short. Until that day. That fucking day. 

The day he purposefully sought him out. When he left Sara’s office, John wasn’t at his desk. He remembers thinking it was too early for him to have left for the 

day, plus his desk wasn’t packed up. He looked around the office and saw him in the kitchen. 

He went to him, got his phone number, made his intentions clear. 

His actions had been deliberate. He had meant to cheat. He wanted to be with John, wanted to fuck him. He wanted him back. Shit. Had he fucked with the guy’s feelings on a whim?   
Had he hurt Ian and John just because he could? What the fuck? 

Had it all been because he was still angry with Ian? Wanted to get back at him? Had he wanted Ian to find out? Fuck. He wished all this shit would just go the fuck away. He wishes he had never met John’s ass. 

Ian was stirring awake. Mickey tightened his arms around him and kissed his forehead, “Go back to sleep baby. I got you”. 

Ian yawned, “Won’t be able to sleep tonight. Did you sleep at all”? 

“Nah. Just wanted to hold you. Missed you so much when you left. Making up for lost time”. 

Ian yawned again, “Missed you too Mick. Glad we’re back together. Let’s get up. What time is it anyway”? 

He looked over at the digital clock, “6:30. You’re right let’s get up. We’ll both be up all night. But we did take that long walk. We should be alright. You running in the morning”? 

“Yeah. Every morning before work. What, you coming with me”? 

“Never know. But I’d just slow you down”. 

Ian laughed and ruffled his hair, “I’ll slow down for you anytime baby. You should come with”. 

“We’ll see. What time”? asked Mickey, rolling his eyes. 

“I leave around 6. Get back just after 7. Plenty time to shower, eat and get to work. That work for you princess”? 

Mickey let out a belly laugh, “Fuck you. Calling me princess. I’ll be ready, and your ass better not leave me behind with those long ass legs”. 

He got up and ruffled Mickey’s hair again, tossing a smug look over his shoulder as he started to prance away, “You love my long ass legs. Told me they were pretty, plenty times. Change your mind ‘bout that princess”? 

Mickey laughed and swatted his ass before he could get away.

A couple hours later, they were curled up on the sofa bickering over which Netflix movie they should watch next. They watched one movie to the end and stopped two others when they decided they didn’t like the plots. 

Ian got up, “I’m gonna get more snacks, you decide with your grumpy ass” 

He said as he pranced into the kitchen. 

Mickey followed him, “What’s with all the prancing princess? Or do you go by Prancer now or something”? 

Ian was putting popcorn in the microwave, “Fuck you Mickey. Crazy ass. Maybe I’m just happy. You make me happy”. 

His eyes misted over, “I’m glad I’m making you happy again. That’s all I want. Thank you for telling me”, he said, wiping his eyes. 

Ian walked over to him and used his thumbs to wipe the away the tears that were still falling, “Oh baby. My love. You’re so sweet to me. I love you Mickey”. 

They kissed long and deep. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, it was more a kiss of promise. Their promise to each other. 

They were still holding each other long after the microwave beeped. When they finally separated Mickey went to the fridge for a beer and a Pepsi for Ian, 

“Might as well get a smoke. Popcorn is cold and we don’t know what we wanna fucking watch. You can’t make up your mind. Come on Prancer. Prance your ass on out this door”. 

Ian laughed as he emptied the popcorn into a bowl, throwing a few kernels at Mickey’s head and followed him onto the patio. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while munching popcorn. Ian didn’t want to ruin the mood, but Mickey wanted to talk about John. About the fucking guilt he was feeling. If he wanted Mickey to be honest about his feelings, he would have to listen and try to help him. No matter how hard the shit was to hear. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand why Mickey felt guilty. It didn’t matter that he resented Mickey for feeling guilty about that bitch. It didn’t matter that he thought Mickey should only feel guilty about cheating on him. And Fuck John. Fact is they were in crisis. They had to work together to sort this shit out. Ian was determined to do his part. He owed Mickey that much. What if Mickey had just closed his mind off when Ian asked for another chance? He just wanted to get rid of John’s ass for fucking good. 

So, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “So, um you were talking about John. How you feel guilty. Sorry I got so mad before. I’m ready to listen now. If you still want to”. 

Mickey stared at him intently, “You sure? Maybe it’s not a good idea Ian. Should’ve never brought it up”. 

He laid a hand on Mickey’s thigh, “It’s fine Mickey. I’m ready to listen”. 

Mickey took a long gulp of his beer, “I don’t know. It’s like I took advantage of both of you. I know you love me, and I love you, but I cheated on you. I knew that he was in love with me, and I knew that I didn’t love him. I Knew I didn’t want to be with him like that. I knew from the very beginning, from the first day we started talking that I didn’t want a long-term thing with him, told him I wasn’t into serious shit. Because you were always in the back of my mind. When he said he understood, I knew he didn’t mean it. I knew he was hoping for something more. It was like he just made up his mind that I was what he wanted. Full stop. I figured that I had been up front with his ass, the rest was on him. I always knew, since back when we were kids sneaking around to be together, I knew that you were the only man I would ever love. The only man I want to live my life with. Ian, I know that you’re the one that was wronged in all this. Yeah, he knew about you. He knew that I left him because I love you. But I just feel like I treated him badly. Like I took advantage of him or some shit. I know this is hard for you to listen to, and I want you to know that I appreciate it. I don’t know what else to say”. 

Mickey was chewing his bottom lip furiously by the time he stopped talking. Ian leaned over and ran his tongue over Mickey’s lip, then he kissed it tenderly. 

Mickey’s eyes were shining with unshed tears as he looked into Ian’s eyes. 

Ian blinked back his own tears, “Mickey you’re being too hard on yourself. You’re not responsible for that asshole’s feelings. You’re not responsible for his heartache, his broken heart, whatever the fuck. He’s a grown ass man. He set out to take you away from me Mickey. He knew we were together. I heard the fucker ask you ‘when are you gonna tell him’? Heard him ask you if you thought it was too soon. The fucker even brought his dumb ass to my office to talk to me, wanted to get things straightened out because he didn’t know what was going on. Like he’s a fucking equal partner in our shit. Ain’t no fucking thrupple up in here. He’d better fucking recognize before I really get mad. All he’s got now is a broken heart, I will break his fucking ass. I’ve got a pair of boots dying to meet his sorry, sniveling ass. You say that you were up front with him about your feelings and your intentions. Obviously, he thinks he knows what’s best for you, thinks he knows better than you. I don’t think you took advantage of him at all Mickey. You wanted to fuck him, he wanted to fuck you, so y’all fucked. His plan back fired when your cheating ass got reeled in. His bet was that I would find out and leave your ass for good. Didn’t work out that way. You say you want me, you don’t want him, so his ass wound up hurt. He lost Mickey. He took a fucking chance and his ass lost. Like Sara always says ‘simple’. It’s just that fucking simple. You say you feel guilty because you knew how he felt about you. Well, the way you tell it, he fucking knew how you felt about me. He was working from a set agenda, and again, based on what you’re telling me, you just had him penciled in on your agenda, he was subject to being erased at any time. And that’s what fucking happened, his ass was erased, rubbed the fuck out. You say you reminded him of his place in your life more than once. He thought he could change your fucking mind. I guess he thought he was bad like that. He got a fucking reality check when I walked up on your cheating ass and you walked the fuck out on his dumb ass. Dropped his ass like it was hot. I just don’t understand your guilt over him Mickey, but I’m trying here. You said you felt safe with him because you didn’t love him, so he couldn’t hurt you. I’m guessing you controlled when y’all fucked because you had to pick a fight with me to get out of the damn house. Maybe he gave you suggestions about which arguments to try, I don’t fucking know. But I do know that you were controlling both of us, me and him. You were all powerful Mickey. King of the fucking hill and shit. You were fucking your man and you were getting back at me. He fucked that ass real good, stroked your fucking ego, and he helped you hurt me. And don’t fucking try to tell me it wasn’t the sex. I know better than that shit. No way you were gonna be with a guy that didn’t pound that tight ass right, make that asshole twitch. You went back to the motherfucker because he knew how to fuck you, knew just how you like it. You could’ve chosen some other guy, but your ass wanted his dick, you fucking missed that dick. So, don’t even try that bullshit with me asshole. I fucking know better”. 

He paused and lit two cigarettes and passed one to Mickey. 

Mickey couldn’t argue with anything Ian said. He just wished he wouldn’t use such vivid fucking language. He felt like the worse fucker on earth, but he had started this shit. He wanted Ian to listen to him talk about John, and fuck if he hadn’t listened. And now he was telling him exactly what he thought about the shit. Fuck. Fuck. He was too ashamed to look at Ian, too ashamed to face the hurt and anger he knew he would see. He needed another beer, no he needed a shot of Jack straight up. But he just sat there with his head down. 

Ian sat quietly smoking for a while. He knew Mickey was ashamed. Good for his ass, he wanted him to feel bad. Asshole. Hell, he felt bad too. He butted his cigarette and leaned back in his chair and began again, 

“You say you thought you had forgiven me, and I believe you thought that. I thought that too. My therapist once told me that when anger is not adequately expressed, resentment takes root. I think we’ve got something like that going on here. We just gotta keep digging until we root it all out. We gotta keep talking Mickey, keep being honest about everything, all the past shit and all this shit. Every bit of it. But the way I see it, that’s our business. Our fucking business Mickey. John’s ass is out of it. He already played his fucking part, he was just a pawn in our fucking drama. Our fucking history. He was your useful idiot. He had no idea what his ass was stepping off into. You wanna feel guilty about that, fine. Nothing I can do about that. But I will say this, seems like he got shit twisted from the start. Way back when y’all first started this shit. Mick you were wrong for cheating. For subjecting me to this shit. But fuck him. He fucking set out to take you away from me. He fully intended to take you away from me, he just didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t have all the information he needed to pull the shit off. But that was his end game. To have you for himself. You know that, because you told me that he wanted your ass so bad, nothing else mattered. So, when you say you feel guilty, is it because you didn’t tell him the real reason you were fucking him? Because you didn’t tell him you were fucking him because you resented me? Because you didn’t tell him you were using him to get back at me? Or are you guilty because you made him think his dick was so damn good, you liked the way he pounded that ass, couldn’t get enough? Maybe you did tell him the truth. Maybe his dick is what kept you going back, and you feel guilty because you’re cutting him off again. He clearly believes that you’re not done with him. Why is that Mickey? Why won’t he leave you the fuck alone? Why does he still act like you belong to him? I’m just trying to wrap my mind around all this guilt you feel about that sniveling bitch. If he wasn’t man enough to play the game, he should’ve kept his goddamn dick in his fucking pants”. 

Ian took a breath, grabbed the cigarettes, threw them back down and abruptly stood up, “You want another fucking beer asshole”? 

Mickey was chewing his bottom lip, still studying the floor, “Yes. I’ll take one if you’re going in there”. 

Ian stomped off. Mickey heard him cussing and slamming around in the kitchen. He laughed to himself. Well shit. I don’t think he’s as hurt as he was earlier. He’s just mad as hell right now. 

Mickey became fascinated with Chicago skyline when Ian stomped back onto the patio and flopped down. He sat Mickey’s beer down and lit two cigarettes, passed one to Mickey. 

He looked over at him and said, “Thanks. Think you gonna need some new shoes the way you been stomping around”. 

Ian just glared at him. Mickey pulled a baggie out of his pocket and held it up for him to see, “Want me to roll one? Pretty good stuff. Got it off a dude from the neighborhood”. 

“Yeah. Whatever. Maybe it’ll calm your ass down. Make you feel better”. 

Mickey sputtered, “Me? You’re the one slamming shit and stomping around Ian”. 

Ian huffed and turned to face him, “And another thing”. 

Mickey thought to himself, ‘Oh shit’ as he quickly rolled the joint and fired it up. He took a toke and quickly passed it to Ian. 

Ian took a couple tokes, passed it back, and leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and stretched his long legs out in front of him. 

Mickey looked over at him wondering if he lost his train of thought. He sure wasn’t gonna remind him. He was tired of talking about John’s ass. He never wanted to hear his damn name again. 

Then Ian started talking with his eyes closed, “It just doesn’t make sense to me that you wanna feel responsible because he couldn’t control his own feelings. You left him once to get back with me, then you go back for him but you’re still with me, and you tell him that you won’t leave me, and he still fucks you like you belong to him, what’s his responsibility Mickey? You think he doesn’t have any because he just loves you so fucking much? He’s a prisoner of love or some shit? His great love for your ass rendered him defenseless? Made him feeble minded? Instead of fucking, y’all should’ve been writing the greatest fucking love story of all time”. 

He took a deep breath and reached his hand out, “Pass the damn joint man”. 

Mickey quirked an eyebrow, “Ian I was finishing that shit back when you were ranting about John’s lack of self- control. I’ll roll another one. Just calm the fuck down tough guy”. 

Ian snarled, “Don’t fuck with me Mickey. I ain’t the one right now. Damn it”. 

Mickey was busy rolling, “I am not fucking with you baby. Just want you to calm down”. 

He fired the joint up and quickly passed it to Ian who took a couple tokes and held it. 

“You gonna share that or what tough guy”? he asked indignantly 

Ian took another toke and passed it to him, then he rested his head on the back of his chair, letting the weed relax him. After a long moment, he sat up and turned to Mickey, “Help me understand your reasoning. You’re an educated man, make me understand your fucking point here Mickey”. 

Mickey held the smoke in his lungs for a long while before letting it out. He looked at Ian, “Listening to you helped me see it in a different light. You’re right, he had a goal and he went for it. I guess I was blaming myself because I started up with him again knowing what he wanted and knowing there was no way he was getting it. I guess I was overwhelmed by his feelings for me. Never been someone’s single focus before. I mean I broke up with him when me and you got back together. That kinda shit happens to people all the time. You just deal with it and move the fuck on. Then I come back around, still with you, and he just jumps back in, like no time had passed at all. Like I hadn’t left him for a guy I had never gotten over and it didn’t even matter that I was still with that guy. Didn’t matter to him at all. I guess I felt validated with him. If somebody felt like that about me, then I must be more than I had been raised to believe I was. I didn’t deserve to be treated so badly by the people I had depended on. The people I had trusted. He stuck around for me. Waited for me. He didn’t leave when shit went sideways. I felt like he would never abandon me. He loved me too much to leave me, he would always be there when I needed him. I mattered to him. He never demanded anything, just more of me, didn’t have to do nothing but be myself. That was enough for him”. 

Ian spoke softly, his eyes were still closed, “Maybe it’s not guilt you feel Mickey. Maybe you just miss him, just need him. Maybe he’s right. He’s what’s best for you, and you just can’t admit it”. 

Mickey turned to face him, “Ian open your eyes. I want you to look at me when I say this”. 

When Ian opened his eyes, Mickey saw that they were red. He didn’t know if it was from the weed or unshed tears. He leaned over and took Ian’s face in his hands, “He’s not right. I love you. You are what’s best for me. Sure, we been through some rough shit. We’ve hurt each other bad, but we always find our way back. I know you’re sorry for the things you did, and I believe you know that I’m sorry for the things I’ve done. I will not lose you. I won’t. We’ll come out the other side of this shit stronger than ever. Together. Promise”. 

He stroked Ian’s face tenderly and kissed him. 

Ian shivered and looked at him intently, “Promise”? 

Mickey kissed the tip of his nose, “I promise baby”. 

Ian exhaled a shaky breath and smiled, “OK Mickey”. 

They had come in from the patio and were sitting on the sofa waiting for their pizza delivery when Ian’s phone beeped with a text from Mandy, 

“Parking. Came to see your new digs since you finally told me where you are”. 

He looked over at Mickey, “Shit it’s Mandy. She’s outside”. 

His fingers were flying, “Should’ve called first. We’re going to bed early. Talk soon”. 

Mickey got up and grabbed his boots, “I gotta get gas anyway. I’ll grab a burger or something while I’m out”. 

Ian walked over to him, “You’re not going anywhere. This is our home for now. I told her that she should’ve called first, we’re going to bed early”. 

Mickey was stunned, “Nah man. That’s alright I need gas anyway. She came to see you”. 

“Sit down. It’s settled. I’ll see her when I see her,” Ian said sternly. 

His phone beeped again,   
“What the fuck Ian? I’m here. Let me in. Who’s with you? Trevor? Promise I won’t stay long”. 

Mickey read the text along with Ian, “Ian just let her in. It’s fine”. 

Ian ignored him and typed, “Mickey’s here. Sorry you came all the way down here. Night”. 

Mickey laughed, “She’s gonna be mad at your ass for a long time. You know how she is”. 

Just then Mickey’s phone beeped, and the intercom sounded. They looked at each other and laughed. 

Mickey scratched his head, “Is that the pizza or Mandy”? 

Ian shrugged his shoulders, “Fuck if I know. Nah. How would she know my apartment number? I didn’t give it to her”. 

Mickey was laughing at Ian’s distress, “Well you gonna answer the buzzer or not”? 

Ian walked over to the intercom, it was their pizza. Mickey read his text,   
“What the fuck Mickey? You told Ian not to let me in? Well fuck you asshole”. 

Ian set the pizza on the coffee table and went to get plates, a beer for Mickey and water for himself. When he sat down Mickey tossed his phone to him. 

Ian read the text and said, “Well fuck her. That’s why I didn’t let her in. Told her I didn’t want to see her until she changed her damn attitude”.   
Mickey nearly choked on his beer, “You told her that? When? What did she do to you”? 

Ian swallowed his mouthful, “We had lunch right after I moved in here. She was talking shit. Trying to get me to tell her what happened with us. When I wouldn’t tell her she just assumed it was your fault without knowing shit. Made me mad. I walked out and left her sitting there. Second time I had to do that shit. She don't learn or she don't believe me. Either way, not having it. Haven’t heard from her since”. 

Mickey had stopped eating, he was staring at Ian, “You walked out on her? Why? Just because she was talking shit about me? She does that all the time Ian”. 

“Not to me she doesn’t.”

“Ian it’s fine. I know how much Mandy and your family mean to you. I know you want to see them. It’s your home too. I don’t mind leaving when they come here”. 

Ian finished chewing and said, “It’s settled Mick. Time to straighten all this shit out. Now eat your pizza, it’s getting cold. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I can have Charles messenger your key to your office, unless you wanna pick it up”. 

Mickey thought about it for a minute. Good way to let Charles’ ass know what’s up, “I’ll pick it up. Noon alright”? 

Ian took a sip of Mickey’s beer, “Whatever. I’m gonna eat at my desk anyway, so I’ll be there all day”. 

He leaned over and licked sauce off Ian’s chin. He was almost giddy about seeing Charles tomorrow. He’d make damn sure the guy understood the status of their relationship. 

He stared intently at Ian wondering why he had never told anyone the reason he moved out. “What? Why are you looking at me like that”? Ian asked as he wiped sauce from his chin.

Mickey cleared his throat, almost afraid to ask, but needing to know, 

“Just wondering why you didn’t tell anyone what I did? I kept waiting for them to tell me what a disgusting piece of shit I am for cheating on you. They still think that about me. They all said they knew that whatever happened was my fault, but they didn’t know what I did. Well, except Carl, he just said we needed to straighten it out because we both knew that we’d end up back together”. 

Ian said, “Sounds like Carl. He didn’t ask me either. He’s the only one I told that I was living here for the longest time. Didn’t want to be bothered with their shit, listen to their opinions. It wasn’t their business Mick. It’s between us, it’s our relationship. I don’t need their input. Not to mention, none of them have ever had a fucking stable relationship. I listened to my family once and ended up abandoning you. I know that ultimately, I made the choice, but they pressured me, wouldn’t fucking let up. I promised you when I asked for another chance that things would be different, that I was different. I meant that. I’ve spent every day trying to show you that. That’s why what you did hurts so bad. I was doing everything I could to let you know how important you are to me, how much I love you. Then I find out you’re fucking someone else. I had to stand there and watch you lie to me about where you were going, why you were coming home so late, night after fucking night. I had to stand there when you started arguments just so you could storm out to be with his ass. I had to fucking stand there when you tried to make me seem unreasonable. I remember the night you counted my fucking pills Mickey. You thought I was asleep. You counted my fucking pills. You thought I was crazy just because I questioned you. Just like my family Mickey. Whenever I don’t act like y’all think I should, it must be that I’m not taking my fucking pills. It can’t be because I don’t like what’s going on. Oh no. Ian’s not taking his pills, he’s manic again. I’m used to my family treating me like that. But you Mickey, you never used my bipolar against me. Until John. You always told me that I wasn’t broken, I was still me. But there you were counting my fucking pills, knowing that you were fucking another man every chance you got. How is it you didn’t even consider that I knew what you were doing? You thought I was too fucking crazy to figure it out, huh Mickey? I’ve been out there baby, I was a heavy-duty playa for a long ass time, I know how the shit is done. I can teach your wanna be ass a thing or two about fucking around on somebody. Check it out when we go to the fucking club next time. Your dumb ass is always looking for the wrong shit. But you deliberately set out to make my suspicions appear groundless. That’s what you did Mickey. And you did it to be with him. To fuck him, to suck his dick. You wanted him so bad, you were willing to risk my damn sanity. Make me think I was over-reacting, being irrational and shit. I want you to know that you hurt me. You hurt me real bad Mickey. And I want you to know that I know, you’re a lying ass when you say it wasn’t the sex. You’re a motherfucking lying ass bitch, bitch. And don’t say that shit to me no damn more with your lying ass. I know you’re sorry, I know you are. But that’s what you did”. 

Mickey was listening quietly, wracked with guilt and shame. How indeed could he have thought Ian didn’t know what he was doing? He knew Ian wasn’t stupid. But what the fuck did he mean check it out at the club? I look for the wrong shit? The fuck’s he talking about? He forcefully pushed that to the back of his mind, he’d have to deal with that shit later. 

For now, he knew that Ian had to get it all out. He understood that they’d have many more conversations like this. 

He forced himself to meet Ian’s eyes, “I am so sorry Ian. I remember that night. I did count your pills and I am so ashamed. I have no excuse. Nothing can excuse my behavior Ian. Absolutely nothing. I was so wrong, all of it was so wrong”. 

Ian got up and went to the fridge for beers. He sat back down, “That’s why it’s so difficult listening to you go on about your guilt over John. Poor sensitive John. He loved and lost, poor thing. He’ll never get over the badass Mickey Milkovich, his life is ruined, poor thing. In my mind, he tried to fucking steal my man and got fucked up in the process. Good on his ass. I’m trying hard to consider your feelings in this Mick. Trying real fucking hard to validate them. But I gotta tell you, I resent your damn guilt, I fucking resent you for feeling guilty about him. You don’t know how hard it was for me to watch you walk out that door knowing you were going to another man. Going to fuck some other man. I could tell the nights you were gonna fuck him, the nights he was waiting to fuck that tight ass hole, I could tell even before you started shit with me. Could tell by the way you walked in the fucking door after work. You risked hurting my damn feelings to be with him. He was just that damn important to you Mickey. I want you to know you broke my fucking heart Mickey. Over John. The same motherfucker you now feel so damn guilty about hurting. He still occupies space in you goddamn mind Mickey. I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to feel about that shit. Even though you guarded your phone with your damn life, I read a couple of his texts. The first time, you forgot your phone, it was the night you counted my pills, you remember that night. The night you changed your mind and stayed home. Guess he had to jerk it that night, but he had enough fucking memories to help him out. He could close his eyes and see that ass hole open up for him, feel it sucking his dick in, closing around him. Shit like that, you know what I’m saying. The second time was the day I moved out. The day I left your lying, cheating ass. That’s how I knew where you were meeting him. I finally had enough. I was fucking done. Had to remind myself that I ain’t no fucking pussy. I concluded that you loved him and just didn’t know how to tell me. I couldn’t imagine you just cheating, you had to be in love. I went there to set your sorry ass free. Let you go on with your fucking life. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was fucking done Mickey. Done with it all”. 

Mickey took a long gulp pf his beer, “I understand your anger and resentment baby. I feel guilty about all of it, not just him. I caused the situation, I hurt you both. I am so sorry for what I did, for hurting you so deeply, for putting our relationship at risk. You are everything to me Ian. I deeply regret what I did, I thought I had lost you. Thought I ran you away forever because of what I did, and I am so ashamed baby. I don’t regret that it’s over with John. I never loved him, never wanted a future with him. Never promised him a damn thing. But I do regret being with him in the first place. I made a bad mistake, I fucked up bad. I just hope that you’ll give me a chance to make it up to you. I’ll be so good to you baby. Just please give me another chance”. 

Ian was looking at him intently, “I love you Mickey. I told you I would forgive you for anything. I told you that when you thought I didn’t know about him. I knew you were fucking him when I told you that. I meant it then and I still mean it. You took another chance on me after I treated you so badly. There’s no excuse, my behavior was deplorable. I have no choice, I’ll always take a chance on you, on us”. 

Mickey’s eyes were shining, “Thank you Ian. You won’t regret it. Promise”. 

“I do have some conditions Mickey. You’re gonna cut off all contact with him. I don’t give a fuck how hurt the motherfucker is. How vulnerable you think he is, how fucking guilty you feel. I don’t care if you kill his sniveling, bitch ass and bury it back of the yards. I don’t care how you do it. Just fucking do it. I don’t care how persistent he is, cut him the fuck off or I will leave you for good this time. If your guilt won’t allow that, then tell me now so we can have a different fucking conversation. I will still listen to anything you have to say about this shit. Any and everything, including your guilt about him. I respect your feelings and you deserve to be able to express them. That’s one of your problems, you were never able to say how you felt about a damn thing. We all treated you like you didn’t have fucking feelings. I am so sorry for my part in that and I am trying to do better You need to be able to tell me why you resent me, why you wanted to hurt me, tell me all about your anger. I need to hear all of it, and I’ll keep telling you how I feel. It’s our only way out of this shit Mickey. I know we have a long road ahead of us. I know we’ll make each other mad, we’ll hurt each other while we’re trying fix this shit. I’m willing to try because I don’t want to lose you. I love you, but I’m mad as hell”. 

Mickey was looking at him, a lone tear rolling down his cheek, 

“I love you so much. I am so ashamed that I put you through this. I will spend my life making it up to you. We can make it work. I can do anything with you by my side. You’re all I ever wanted Ian. You’re the first person that ever loved me. The first person that ever made me feel like maybe I was worthy of love. For the first time in my shitty life someone wanted to be with me. Was fucking happy to be with me. I knew then that you were it for me. Knew you would always be it for me. I see my future in you Ian” 

Ian was looking at the floor, fidgeting with his hands as he whispered, “Then I broke up with you. I abandoned you when you needed me the most. I’m so sorry Mickey”. 

He leaned over and brought Ian’s hands to his lips, “Baby I know you’re sorry. I just wanted you to know that you’ve always meant the world to me. Always been my everything”. He placed kisses all over Ian’s large hands. 

Ian looked up and cleared his throat, “There’s something else Mick. Gonna need you to get tested”. 

Mickey hadn’t thought about that. He was sure that John wasn’t fucking anyone else. Should he tell Ian that? Hell no. 

Instead he said, “Ian I always used a condom. I wouldn’t put you at risk like that. But I understand. I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Is that why you haven’t touched me”? 

“That’s part of the reason”. 

Mickey sat quietly, waiting for him to continue, when he didn’t, he asked, 

“What’s the other part Ian”? 

He firmly pulled his hands from Mickey’s grasp and placed them in his own lap “I’m really struggling with images of you fucking him Mick. One of his texts said for you to bring his ‘ass’ to him. Said he was waiting for it. Said he’d been missing it. Can you imagine how I felt reading that shit? He was talking about my man. My man who had just started an argument with me and stormed out to take that ass to him. My man who was so eager to go fuck him that he had stormed out and left his fucking phone. Back then you always kept your phone close, either texting or staring at it when you didn’t think I was looking. For you to leave it behind, let me know how bad you wanted to get that ass to him, how bad you wanted to fuck him. You had started an argument with me just so you could storm out in fucking righteous indignation. You schemed and lied just so you could fuck him Mickey. I don’t know, but maybe he means more to you than you’re admitting. I just don’t know. I keep telling myself that you love me, I know you do. I know you’re committed to our relationship. Hell, I’ve seen the way you treat him. You certainly don’t act like you want his ass. I’ve heard you tell him that you don’t want him more than once. But he still won’t give up. I gotta ask myself why. Why won’t he go the fuck away? For some reason, unknown to me, he still thinks he has a chance. That can only be because of you Mickey. I don’t care how much you deny it to me, or to him, you’re not done with him. You only stopped fucking him because I walked up on your ass. You didn’t stop because you wanted to, you stopped because you had no choice. You would still be fucking him if not for that. He knows it, I know it, and you know it too. He means something to you Mickey. He still has access to you. Sure, you acted all put off and shit when he texted you that he needed some things brought to the hospital. But I gotta ask myself why is he able to contact you whenever his ass feels like it? Because you haven’t cut him off, that’s why. You may not be fucking him right now, but you haven’t cut him off completely. Then there’s the whole guilt thing, the fucking nostalgic way you speak about his ass. You’re emotionally tied to him Mickey. I just can’t fuck you now. I already put up with enough of yours and John’s bullshit. I’m done with that. Too much shit just doesn’t feel right. Shit just doesn’t sit right with me Mickey. You need to get your head right before I even think about having sex with you again. I won’t be his stand in. If you want to go back to your apartment, I understand. I won’t hold it against you. I’d still be willing to work on our relationship if that’s what you really want. Those are my conditions and my feelings. Take ‘em or not. We can always have a different conversation”. 

Mickey knew what a different conversation meant. No way were they going to talk about breaking up. Hell no. He would do whatever Ian wanted. Any fucking thing he said. 

He got down on his knees in front of him, “I want to be here with you. Right here with you. Please don’t make me go away. I’ll take care of it all tomorrow. All of it Ian. You take as much time as you need baby. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Just please come back to me Ian”. 

Ian was crying softly as he ran his fingers through Mickey’s soft hair, “OK Mickey”. 

The next day Mickey was sitting at his desk thinking about what he was going to say to John. Ian was right. John shouldn’t be able to contact him. 

What the fuck was wrong with him anyway? Why hadn’t he deleted his contact information? Blocked his fucking number? He had even let Ian know that he hadn’t deleted it. What the fuck? Shit. 

Why had he even bothered to shop for him if he was done with him? If Ian pulled some shit like that, he’d be pissed too. Probably kick the guy’s ass. He placed a work-related call and checked the time. The staff should be serving lunch now. 

He left his office and took the elevator to John’s floor. The door was open, but Mickey knocked before he stepped inside. 

John looked up and smiled what he thought to be his most alluring smile when he saw him. He just looked foolish to Mickey. 

“Hey Mickey. Was wondering if I should call you, tell you to stop by when you get a chance. Surgery got postponed till tomorrow, schedule was too full today. They figured I’m stable, and they’re observing me, so I got pushed back. Come on over here and sit down. Missed you yesterday, was hoping you’d at least call. But I understand. With Ian and all, guess it’s hard to get away sometimes. Mickey why are you standing over there? Come on sit down”. 

Mickey stood there quietly, wondering when he would shut the fuck up, when he did stop talking Mickey said, 

“Man listen. I want you to listen real hard. This ain’t no social call. I came here to tell you for the last fucking time to leave me alone. Do not contact me anymore. I will not tell you again”. 

He pulled his phone out, “I’m deleting your info. See? Whatever you got going on in your head ain’t happening. I don’t want you man. I’ve already told you that a more than a few times, now I’m telling you again and for the last time, I love Ian. He’s the only man I love. We are together, will always be together. I will always choose him, man. Always. Me and you have nothing. Forget you fucking know me. Is that clear enough for you, John”? 

John was glaring at him, “Ian sent you here didn’t he? He scared of the competition? Mickey I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you. That’s gotta count for something. You came back to me. Nobody made you do that, and we’d still be together if he hadn’t walked his ass in the restaurant that night. Fucked up our date. Then he brings his ass here with you. Always ruining our time together. You gotta face it Mickey, he just doesn’t make you happy, that’s why you came back to me after almost four years. You tried with him, when it didn’t work you came back to me. Where you belong. With me Mickey. You belong with me. He’s just got you confused now. I understand that and I’m willing to wait for you Mickey. I’ll always wait for you. I’ll never leave you like he did. You gotta know that by now”. 

Mickey leaned against the door listening. This motherfucker is crazy. He’s fucking out cold. When he finally stopped talking, Mickey narrowed his eyes, 

“When it comes to you and Ian, man there’s no competition. He will win hands down, every time. But listen up John. Let me put this in terms you can understand. Apparently, I can’t reason with your ass. If you ever call me, text me or try in any way to see me or contact me again, I will kick your ass. I will beat your damn ass so bad your own mama won’t recognize you. I won’t get arrested because no one will see me kicking that ass. It will be your word against mine. I’m a fucking upstanding citizen now, know powerful people and shit. I will have witnesses saying my ass was across town when your ass got assaulted. And motherfucker, if I happen to kill your crazy ass, they’ll never find your damn body. You ever heard of back of the yards man? I know how to get that shit done. You don’t want to test me John. Just remember what side of the fucking city I’m from. South side roots run fucking deep man. Anything you need clarification on John? I won’t tell you this again so now’s the time to make sure you understand me”. 

John’s mouth was hanging open in shock. Would Mickey really do that to him? He swallowed noisily and nodded his understanding. 

Mickey gave a curt nod, “Good. Don’t fucking test me man”, he turned around and walked down the hall to the elevator. 

John grabbed his call button and asked the nurse for medication for his sudden headache. He laid back in his bed and closed his eyes hoping the nurse would hurry the fuck up.

As Mickey was taking the elevator back to his office, he thought of the two other tasks he still had to get done today. He didn’t really want to get tested here at the hospital. Too many nosy fuckers. 

But he had hired the lab supervisor’s son when he got out of prison. Allen was a good hire. He came to work on time, did his job, kept his nose clean. He was working hard to meet the qualifications for transition to full-time status. Mickey already knew he was going to recommend him. 

Four other hospital personnel, plus the hospital administrator, sat on the transition board, but they usually went along with Mickey. All four of them had been totally against the program. It had taken a lot of convincing and some ass kissing to get them to give the program a chance. It turned out to be a political success. The board of directors was pleased to be working with the law enforcement community. Living up to their civic duty and shit. So long as nobody fucked up. 

Mickey decided he would go to the hospital lab. Allen’s dad was an older guy, he was all about his business. Mickey never saw him hanging around gossiping. He got along with his staff as far as Mickey could tell. He believed the guy could be trusted. Plus, the guy couldn’t stop thanking him for hiring his ex-con son. 

He opened the door to the lab and walked in. 

Thirty minutes later Mickey was walking to his truck, looking forward to completing his final Ian related task for the day. While he was driving, his mind wandered to John. Ian said he was still emotionally attached to the guy. He wasn’t wrong. He could still see the emotions fighting for dominance on his face. The utter shock, the terror and the disbelief. 

He felt real bad about that, but he had left him no choice. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, he wouldn’t listen to reason and he wasn’t going to stop. So, he had to stop him. Fucking case closed. Hasta la vista baby. 

Sure, John had been good to him, real fucking good. They had been good together for a while. He had been there when Mickey really needed someone after he was released. Having John in his life had made it easier for him to stay away from Ian. Not easy, but easier. Until he couldn’t stay away any longer. 

He went to John and told him that he was leaving, told him why. He didn’t cheat on him although they didn’t have a commitment, at least none that he had agreed to. 

Ian is right, he had his own endgame in mind when they started up again. The shit had blown up in his face when Ian reeled Mickey’s ass in.   
He refused to accept it when Mickey told him more than once that he wasn’t leaving Ian, when he told him that he loved Ian. That’s on him. Whatever emotional bullshit he felt for John was nothing compared to the love he had for Ian. It would just have to sort itself out in his head. 

He had explained his thoughts and feelings to Ian, and he said he understood. He was mad as hell, but he said he understood. He watched Ian take it all in, and he was sure that Ian would try his best to give him what he needed. Ian’s best is all he had ever wanted. He was feeling confident that they would come out the other side of this shit storm. He was whistling as he parked and walked into Ian’s office building.

He walked up to the desk, “Hey Charles. I need to see Ian please”. 

He looked up at him with a strained smile, “Good afternoon Mickey. Haven’t seen you in a while. Miss the daily flower deliveries. Ian is unavailable. I can take a message if you want”. 

Mickey smirked, “No problem man,” he pulled out his phone and texted Ian. 

Charles was about to ask again if he wanted to leave a message when Ian walked out of his office smiling, 

“Hey Mick. Was wondering what time you’d get here. Come on in. Charles, I need the other key to the apartment when you get a minute. Thanks”. 

He looked first at Ian then at Mickey, “Um, you want the spare key? To the apartment? Um sure Ian, no problem. Right away”. 

Mickey was watching his reaction closely, “No hurry man. I’ll be here for a minute. Pick it up on my wait out”. 

He walked around the desk and kissed Ian’s cheek, “Working hard baby? I got everything done. Come on let me tell you about it”. 

He followed Ian into his office and shut the door firmly. He wanted to laugh at Charles’ distress but thought better of it. His own ass was not out of the woods yet. So, he sat down and told Ian what he’d accomplished, studiously leaving out the details of his encounter with John. Ian gave a curt nod and they quickly moved on to lighter topics

When Mickey left Ian’s office Charles held up an envelope, “The key” and handed it to Mickey. 

He smiled as he took the key, then took out his key ring and painstakingly put the key on it, “This work for everything man”? 

Charles was busy stacking and re-stacking the few files on his desk, he didn’t bother to look up,   
“Yes. Far as I know. Ian only has one key. Have a good day Mickey”. 

He stood there patiently until Charles finally looked up and he asked him, “You OK man? looking a little pale there. You seemed fine when I came In. Can I get you something? Water maybe? I know Ian keeps some in his fridge”. 

“No thank you Mickey. I’m fine. Have a nice day”. 

Mickey gave him a mock salute, “See you around man” and walked out. 

Mickey laughed to himself. Bet the motherfucker knows Ian’s status now. He checked the time and realized he would be late for a meeting if he didn’t hurry the fuck up. 

He thought about his conversation with Ian while he was driving. Ian hadn’t said a word when he told him that he had talked to John, but he did ask when the lab results would be back. 

Charles sat at his desk fuming. He couldn’t believe Ian had taken Mickey back after all the damn drama he had witnessed. Ian didn’t need that cocky fucker, he could do so much better. 

He knew that Mickey had broken Ian’s heart. He had seen the devastating pain in those beautiful green eyes. He was there the day that stupid guy came to talk to Ian about Mickey. How could Mickey allow something like that to happen? He couldn’t even cheat right. The dumbass. Why would Ian take his ass back? 

He would never subject Ian to something like that. Hell, he would never cheat on Ian. Who in their right mind would want somebody else if they had Ian?   
He knew how to take care of Ian, he had been doing it all this time. He made sure Ian ate two healthy meals every day. He knew how important nutrition was to him, because he had researched bipolar disorder early on. 

He was always available to work late. He looked forward to those nights when he had Ian all to himself. He would take his laptop into his office and sit across from him while they worked. Sometimes Ian would roll his sleeves up and he would imagine being held in those big strong arms, imagine being crushed against that beautiful broad chest, and being kissed by those pretty, soft, pink lips. 

He had been doing his job a long time and he knew how to run the office, he understood the politics associated with Ian’s position. Some people were jealous of him, resented his rise in the company, they thought he was too young and too inexperienced, were upset because he didn’t ‘wait his turn’. 

They were sitting back waiting for him to make a mis-step, so they could pounce. That’s why he made sure that everything they submitted was perfect, from staff memos to budget proposals. He was determined to make sure Ian succeeded. Ian depended on him and valued his input. 

So, no. He was not about to let Mickey destroy what he and Ian had together. Ian needed him. He had been there while Mickey was out cheating with that other guy. Who did Mickey think he was anyway? Purposely standing there making sure that he saw him put that fucking key on his damn key ring. The bastard. He was going to make sure that Ian was OK and there wasn’t a damn thing Mickey could do about it.


	28. I Knew He Would Come Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John reflects on his and Mickey's second time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Present day, but John looks back.

John hadn’t been able to sleep since Mickey left. The pain medication they gave him for his headache didn’t do shit. He was angrily pulling items from the bag Ian left on the chair beside his bed, the chair that Mickey was supposed to sit in. He hadn’t sat in it today either. Too damn busy threatening him. 

Mickey wouldn’t admit it, but he knew that Ian made him say those horrible things to him. Asshole. Why couldn’t he just leave them the fuck alone? 

Mickey would’ve let his guard down and shown his concern if it wasn’t for Ian. Hell, Mickey has to be concerned, he was having fucking surgery. 

Now thanks to Ian’s selfish ass, Mickey had to stay away. He ignored the small voice telling him that no one told Mickey what to do. 

He knows Mickey wants him, no matter what Ian made him say. He came back to him, didn’t he? He gave Ian another chance and he still came back to him. 

Mickey is just confused now. 

He angrily threw the items back into the bag and turned on his side, determined not to doubt Mickey’s feelings for him. 

He thought back to the day Mickey walked back into his life.

They were working on a new case and the office was extremely busy. Everyone had been ordering out every day for lunch because they were too busy to leave the office. John, and a few others had even been working late most evenings. 

He went to Sara’s office to get her lunch order, “We’re ordering from Ollie’s”. 

She looked up from the file she was reading, “Nothing for me today. Mickey’s bringing me lunch. Thanks John”. 

He left her office smiling. He was gonna see Mickey. In person, not looking at him through his windshield. He might even get a chance to touch him. 

A half hour later Mickey walked in. 

He jumped up and hurried over to him, “Hey Mickey. Long time no see man. How you been? Really good to see you”. 

Mickey smiled, “I’m good John. Been real good. How you doing man”? 

He leaned in close and whispered, “Missing you Mickey. That’s how I been. Gonna do something about it”? 

Mickey quirked an eyebrow, “Come on man. You know what’s up with that. Food’s getting cold. Sara’s waiting”. 

He stepped around him and went into Sara’s office. 

John went back to his desk, still smiling. Mickey hadn’t brushed past him like he usually did. He had stopped and talked to him. Actually, stopped and talked to him. 

When his lunch arrived, he was too excited to eat. Mickey hadn’t said ‘no’. 

That was a good sign. If he wasn’t ready to leave Ian yet, they could work on that. Take it slow. Whatever Mickey wanted. 

He was in the break room putting his lunch in the fridge when Mickey walked in and asked, “So what’s up man? What you got going on these days”? 

He slammed the fridge and whipped around so fast magnets flew off the fridge, scattering papers everywhere, “You Mickey. You’re always what’s up with me. You know that. Nothing’s changed about that”. 

Mickey thumbed his lower lip, eyes roaming slowly over his body, “Wanna get a drink sometime? Coffee? What the fuck ever”? 

He smiled his most seductive smile, “Yeah. What the fuck ever Mickey. When? You name it, I’m there”. 

Mickey smirked and handed his phone to him, “Kinda lost your number man”. 

He glared at him but took the phone and called himself. He checked if Mickey had the same number, “Don’t lose it this time Mickey”. 

Mickey checked him out again, “I got you man. Let you know when”. 

As Mickey turned to leave John said, “Don’t wait too long. Been missing you bad Mickey. Real bad”. 

He chuckled and kept walking, “Later man”. 

John was so excited he had difficulty concentrating on his work for the rest of the day. 

Holy shit, he was gonna fuck Mickey soon. The way Mickey looked at him, yeah, he’s ready for this dick. 

He had been right all along. Mickey was coming back to him. Mickey wanted him back. Wanted to be with him. He must be ready to leave Ian. 

He didn’t see Mickey just cheating on the asshole, he’s basically a loyal person. He hadn’t cheated on him when they were together, until Ian Gallagher showed up. When Mickey got ready to leave, he came to him like a man and they hadn’t even been together that long. Yeah, Mickey is ready to make a change and he intended to be that fucking change. 

At 5:00 sharp, he went to Sara’s office and knocked, “Do you need me tonight? I can stay if you do”. 

She looked up at him, “No, you go ahead. You’ve been here late all week. I can call you if I need something. I should be fine. Enjoy your evening, John”. 

He smiled gratefully, “Thanks Sara. Just call if you need something. See you in the morning”. 

She had already returned to the legal pad that had her attention. He closed the door quietly, went to his desk and packed his things up. After telling everyone good night, he left the office whistling.

An hour later he was sitting on his sofa waiting for Mickey to contact him. Should I let him know I’m home? Maybe he thinks I’m working late. 

He decided to make a sandwich, he was too anxious to sit still. He was eating when his phone beeped. He grabbed for his phone, knocking his water over. 

He read the text, “What’s up? Off yet”? 

He quickly typed, “I’m home. Coming over? Want me to meet you”? 

He was cleaning up the spill when his phone beeped again,  
“I can come there. That OK princess”? 

He smiled happily. We’re gonna fuck. He misses me. He quickly typed, 

“Hurry the fuck up. Need you bad. See you soon”.

He was opening the door for Mickey less than twenty minutes later. He pulled him inside and slammed the door. 

“Let me get you a beer. Relax a little. Or do you want a Jack”? 

Mickey smiled, “Jack. Got any coke”? 

He laughed, “You know I got what you need Mickey. Sit back and let me take care of you. Let me be good to you”. 

“Get the drink man and shut the fuck up,” Mickey said, laughing. 

“When I get that sweet, juicy dick in my mouth I’ll shut the fuck up”.

He sat two drinks on the coffee table and asked, “You hungry Mickey? I can make you something. I had a sandwich before you came. I can make you one. Won’t take long at all”. 

He thumbed his bottom lip, “Nah man. Ian’s probably cooking something. It’s his night. I didn’t come here to eat”. 

John sipped his drink, “So you have assigned nights to cook? How does that work out”? 

Mickey’s tone was sharp, “Works out fine for us. But I didn’t come here to talk about cooking schedules. I thought you said you missed me. Don’t seem like it. All this damn chit chat”. 

Mickey took a long gulp of his drink and moved closer. John drained his glass and pulled Mickey in for a long kiss. Mickey groaned as he rubbed John’s dick through his pants. 

John moaned loudly, feeling like he might cum right then, it had been so fucking long since he had Mickey in his arms. 

He spoke in a low husky voice, “Gonna show you how much I missed that sweet, tight ass”. 

He stood and pulled Mickey up, kissing him all the way to the bedroom. 

Mickey woke a couple hours later panicked, “What time is it man? I gotta go. Fuck, how long did I sleep? I didn’t mean to fall asleep, damn it. What fucking time is it? I didn’t tell Ian I would be late. Fuck”. 

John was looking at him curiously, “It’s only 9:00 Mickey. Calm the fuck down. It’s not even late”. 

He was frantically searching the floor for his clothes, “I didn’t tell Ian I’d be late. He’ll be worried. Shit. Fuck, where’s my fucking shit”? 

“Mickey it’s not even that damn late I think you’re worrying for nothing”. 

He was thinking of the nights he followed Mickey home from work much later than it is now. But he couldn’t let him know that. 

He had known for a while that Mickey worked at the hospital. He knew a lot about him actually: where he lived, what time he left for work, where he liked to have lunch. He made it his business to keep up with him. 

He wasn’t stalking him, he just wanted to be around when he changed his mind. He was convinced that what they had between them is real. He knew that Mickey cared about him, could even love him if he would just let himself. Ian Gallagher was the only thing standing in the way.

Mickey finally got his clothes on and rushed into the bathroom, bumping into the wall on his way there. 

John got up, angrily snatched his pants off the floor, and went into the living room. He didn’t want to hear Mickey making himself presentable for that fucker. He was sitting on the couch when Mickey came out, more frantic than ever, 

“I gotta go man”. 

He grabbed up his phone, checking for missed calls or texts, then quickly typed something. 

The response was immediate. He smiled as he read whatever the fuck it said. 

John cleared his throat loudly. Mickey looked over at him and smiled in relief, 

“All good. Gotta run. Later man”. 

John got up and walked over to him, “Want another drink? You said everything is alright. You can stay for a little bit. We didn’t talk at all. Just one drink Mickey”? 

His eyebrows shot up, “Told you I gotta go man. Ian’s waiting for me. He didn’t eat yet”. 

He swallowed his anger, but he couldn’t do much about his disappointment, “Well OK. Gonna at least kiss me before you go”? 

He reached for him, but Mickey stepped back and opened the door, 

“Talk soon. Gotta go”. 

He was out the door leaving John standing there wondering what the actual fuck. 

He tidied up and went to bed. He lay their thinking late into the night. Does Mickey just want a fucking mistress? Is that what this is all about? I want all of him. I want Ian gone the fuck from our lives. What would happen if Ian found out? He decided that he would just to let it play out. You can’t keep a fucking secret forever.

He didn’t hear from Mickey for two days. He didn’t answer any of his texts and he really wasn’t sure about calling him. 

He didn’t want to scare him off by pushing too hard. He consoled himself by thinking about how much Mickey had wanted him. How ready for him Mickey had been. It was like no time had passed at all. Yeah, he would be back. He was sure of it. 

They established a routine of fucking a couple times a week. Mickey made sure he didn’t fall asleep again. Most of the time they wouldn’t even go to the bedroom. Mickey would tell him to drop his pants, and they would fuck on the couch, the floor, against the wall, and he never stayed past 8:00. 

John was not pleased, he wanted more than a fuck buddy. He wanted the relationship they’d had before Ian showed the fuck up. Whenever he tried to engage him, Mickey would close down and leave soon after. 

One night, he worked up the nerve to ask him why they never talked. Mickey was at the fridge getting ice for his drink. 

He stopped abruptly and turned around to look him squarely in the eye,  
“This ain’t that kinda thing man. I share shit with Ian, he’s my man, my partner and shit. He’s the man I love. Don’t get this shit twisted John. I thought you understood what this is. I come here because I want to. If that’s not enough, you need to let me know now. Don’t want no shit man. I got too fucking much to lose”. 

He got up and went to him, “I understand Mickey. It’s just that I wanna know about you. And nothing is ever enough. I’m always gonna want more. I’m in love with you. You know that, you’ve always known that, and I know you have strong feelings for me. You won’t say it, but I know it. You came back to me. You left me for him, but you came back to me. That means something Mickey. You just need to admit it”. 

“Starting to think this is a mistake. I can’t give you what you want man. You’re a good dude John. You should find someone who can love you back. Any guy would be lucky to have you. I’m just not that guy. I’ve always loved Ian. That ain’t likely to change man. I don’t want to hurt you again. I know I did before. Still feel really shitty about that”. 

He drained his glass and set it down, “I’m gonna go now. Told Ian I wouldn’t be late”. 

He followed him out of the kitchen, “Mickey don’t go. You just got here. I’m sorry I upset you, please don’t go”. 

He gave John a long, searching look, “Man I’m hurting you. Taking advantage of your feelings for me. I don’t wanna to be that guy. You deserve so much better”.

John was frantic. Should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut. I knew better than to press him. 

“I don’t want anyone else. I want you Mickey. Any way I can have you. Just you. You’re not hurting me. I won’t push anymore. Just don’t leave me again”. 

Mickey walked to the door, “Let’s think about it for a while. See what we come up with alright”? 

He kissed John’s lips softly and opened the door, “Night man. Get some rest”. 

John stood in the doorway watching him as he took his phone out and typed something in before he sped off. In a hurry to get home to Ian. Fucker. 

He closed the door, turned the lights off, and sat at his kitchen table. Shit, I ran him off. Should’ve kept my damn mouth shut. He was starting to get comfortable here again, just like he used to be. I fucked up. 

He doesn’t want to hurt me. That proves he cares. More than cares, he’s just afraid. 

Feels guilty about cheating on Ian. Fuck, it always comes back to fucking Ian. The prick. 

Can’t keep his man, whose fucking fault is that? Not his man, my man, he came back to me. And I just ran him the fuck away. He said to think about it. 

For how long? I don’t have to fucking think. I already know. Question is, how long does he need? How much time should I give him before I call, well text? Shit.

He waited for two days before deciding to go to Mickey. During those two days he sent minimal texts, “Morning Mickey. Love you. Have a good day”.  
“Night Mickey. Missing you bad”. 

Mickey never responded which didn’t really surprise him. He’s just giving me time to think, just like he said we needed. He wants to be with me but doesn’t want to hurt me. 

He was sure Mickey wouldn’t take his call, so he decided to go to his office. 

He stopped at the hospital Information desk to find out where the transportation office was located. He took the elevator to the 2nd floor and found the office he wanted. 

He opened the door to the small waiting room and stood stock still. Mickey and Ian were standing inside Mickey’s office with the door slightly ajar, kissing passionately. 

He had to strain, but he heard Mickey say, “I can lock the damn door baby. Come on. Let me suck that big dick for you. It’s already hard. Won’t take long. I’m not expecting anyone. If somebody comes, they can just come the fuck back. I’m on a fucking break or whatever. Everybody knows I’m not in here all the time anyway”. 

Ian was breathing hard, “Come on Mick. We can’t, you know if we get started, we won’t stop at that. I gotta get back to work. Got my trainee covering for my ass”.  
Mickey was sucking on Ian’s neck and rubbing his dick through his pants, “Ian, baby my mouth is watering for that big dick. Come on man, let me suck it”. 

John stood there watching them with his mouth hanging open. He knew that he shouldn’t be looking, but he was transfixed. 

Mickey saw him first. His hand was still on Ian’s dick when he demanded, 

“What the fuck are you doing here”? 

Ian whipped around and looked at John in confusion, “Mickey that’s no way to talk to people. You don’t even know why he’s here. Excuse him sir. He’s a little bit worked up right now. He’ll be right with you. Just give us a minute”. 

He closed the door and turned to Mickey with the same confused look, 

“Mickey who is he? Why’d you talk to him like that”? 

Mickey had gotten over his initial shock, but he was fuming. That motherfucker is showing up at my job? I will kick his sniveling ass.  
He didn’t think Ian suspected anything, but he had to tell him something. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Asshole from another department. Always snooping around down here, trying to see what we’re doing”. 

Ian studied him closely for a minute, “Oh. Well I guess you know what you’re doing. But shit Mickey, that was harsh. I gotta get going”. 

He straightened his clothes and opened the door, Mickey caught his arm before he could get far, “Wait a fucking minute. Where’s my kiss”? 

He smiled as Mickey pulled him in for a long kiss. He had no way of knowing that Mickey brazenly held John’s gaze throughout the kiss. 

Ian pushed away and placed a lighter kiss on his lips, “Gotta go baby. See you tonight. Gonna be late”? 

He leveled his gaze at John, “Nah baby. Nothing here worth being late for. Got something big and juicy waiting for me at home. Gotta finish what I started”. 

Ian blushed again as he gave his uniform a cursory glance and ran a hand through his tousled hair, “Good. See you soon”. 

Mickey licked his bottom lip lazily as his eyes roamed over Ian’s body, “You look good baby. Perfect. With your fine ass. See you soon princess”. 

He blushed, “Later Mick” and strode out the door. 

John had closed his mouth, but he hadn’t moved. He had followed Ian a couple of times just to get a feel for the guy, so he knew that he was handsome. 

But he wasn't prepared for how truly beautiful he was. He exuded sex and masculinity. He was much taller than John had originally thought. 

That damn uniform fit like it was poured on his ass. And those long, powerful legs and those muscular thighs. Shit. 

And those eyes, he had never seen any more captivating. And his smile. That fucker could probably charm anyone, anywhere, anytime. 

And the way Mickey had slobbered over his fucking dick, you’d think it was other worldly or some shit. 

So what if he seemed like a nice guy too? Poor Mickey hadn’t stood a fucking chance when Ian popped the fuck back up. 

Well, he wasn’t fucking charmed by Ian Gallagher. It was up to him to give Mickey some damn perspective. 

He mentally shook himself, and was startled to find Mickey standing in front of him with his arms folded across his chest, nostrils flaring, and a hard glint his eyes, “The fuck are you doing here man? Are you out of your fucking mind? This is my work place and you bring your dumb ass up in here? For what? Gonna make me talk to your ass? That it huh? Gonna force me John”? 

He exhaled a shaky breath. Fuck. Is he gonna hit me? I didn’t know that fucker was here. How the hell would I know that? 

He always goes off the deep end when fucking Ian is involved. Just like the morning he threw me out of his damn house because I questioned him about that asshole. Gotta get him to calm the fuck down. 

He and Mickey were about the same height, but he knew he couldn’t defend himself against Mickey. Mickey was stocky and muscular, built like a fucking tank. 

He and Ian were from the south side, they had grown up fighting and shit. He hadn’t. That was one of things that attracted him to Mickey: he was a bad boy. No, he didn’t stand a chance against Mickey. 

Hell, he wouldn’t even know how to defend himself. He mostly settled disputes by trying to reason with the other person. If that failed, he just took the hit and got the fuck on. 

He cleared his throat noisily, “Mickey wait. How could I know he would be here? I would’ve waited if I had known he was in here”. 

Mickey walked over and slammed the door to the outer office so hard the glass shook. He didn’t want anyone hearing this shit, and he certainly didn’t want anyone witnessing him kicking this prick’s ass if it came to that, and he was about ready to take it right there. 

This shit was his own fucking fault. He knew that John was a fickle ass motherfucker. 

He walked back over to him and snarled, “Ain’t your fucking business if he’s here or not motherfucker. He can go any fucking where he wants. Come here whenever the fuck he feels like it. He’s mine. He’s my man. You’re the motherfucker that’s out of place. You don’t fucking belong here. How you gonna just walk your dumb ass up in here? I tried to talk to you about this shit the other night. You fucking dense or some shit man? Got a fucking brain defect or something?” 

He was getting angry. He could only take so much abuse, “No I’m not dense Mickey. I wanted to talk to you. Don’t like the way we left things the other night. Didn’t think you would take my damn call since you didn’t answer my fucking texts”. 

Mickey was so mad spittle was flying from his mouth, “So this is the fucking venue you pick? You think it’s alright to bring your fickle ass to my job to discuss your fucking concerns? How ‘bout I come by your fucking office and we finish this shit there? Let’s just go on over there and I’ll answer all your fucking questions. We can talk till your dumb ass gets tired. What about that motherfucker”? 

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and backed up a couple steps, “I think you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. No harm was done. He doesn’t even know who I am Mickey. Why the fuck are you so upset? Your precious Ian is fine. Gone back to work happy as can be”. 

Mickey was thumbing his nose and rolling his shoulders when the door suddenly opened and one of his guys walked in, brows furrowed, “What’s up boss? Hear you down the hall. He giving you a hard time? Need some help”? 

Mickey stepped back and glared at John, “Nah Grayson. All good. Mr. Long here was just leaving”. 

John stood there in total disbelief. Was Mickey really kicking him out? They hadn’t even talked. Surely, they could go to the cafeteria for coffee or Mickey could at least walk him to his car. They needed to talk. He couldn’t go on like this. Especially after what had just happened. 

Was Mickey going to hit him if this guy didn’t come in? What the fuck is wrong with him? All he wanted is to make his ass happy. Make him understand that Ian is all wrong for him. Why did Mickey have to fight him every damn step of the way? Mickey needed to hear him out. This wasn’t fucking fair. 

Mickey was making this guy think that he didn’t mean shit to him. Letting the guy threaten him. Treating him like he was some random guy off the street with a transportation issue or whatever the fuck they did in here. 

What the fuck is his problem? He deserved the benefit of the doubt some damn time. He hadn’t done anything, certainly not enough to be treated like this. 

The guy, Grayson, was staring him down, and Mickey was staring at him with raised eyebrows, so he said, “Alright. Alright I’m going. But Mickey……” 

Mickey interrupted him, “But Mickey my ass. Get the fuck outta here now. And don’t ever bring your ass back up in here. Grayson open the door for this prick. Get him the fuck outta my damn sight, and if you ever see his ass lurking around here again, kick his damn ass. You got my fucking permission”. 

Grayson opened the door and shot him a menacing glare. John looked at Mickey once more and said quietly, “This is not right Mickey. It’s not right” and slowly walked out the door shaking his head. 

He didn’t hear from Mickey for two long weeks. He couldn’t believe it was over. They just got back together, and he had run him away already. He had lost him again. 

Why hadn’t he just left well enough alone? Mickey would have come around if he’d just waited, given him a chance to get his bearings, give him time to realize just how much he loved him. How much better he was for him. But no, he had to push too hard. Now he was gone. Gone back to Ian Gallagher again. 

When his phone beeped, his heart rate accelerated. Hoping against hope that It was Mickey, he snatched it up. Theo. Fucking Theo, not Mickey. 

He read the text, “Hey Johnny Boy. Busy tonight? Want to grab a drink? Hit me back. Been thinking about you man”. 

He tossed his phone down in frustration and went to the fridge for a beer. Theo was a wealthy attorney he met at work, and they maintained a cordial relationship over the years. He and Sara’s late husband had been college roommates and best friends. 

Theo had inherited his father’s law practice and expanded it. He was tall, dark and handsome. His complexion reminded John of black coffee with a dash of cream. He wore his head shaved, had a pencil thin mustache, and his big, beautiful, brown bedroom eyes always twinkled. He was one of the sexiest men John 

had ever seen. He was a kind, considerate man, but he wasn’t Mickey. 

Theo had gotten to know Mickey while he was living with Sara. While he never quite understood Sara’s affection for him, he had come to know that Mickey was fiercely devoted to her. That made him OK in Theo’s book. 

One afternoon, Theo was walking to his car after visiting Sara when he saw John sitting in his car crying. He walked over to his car and John confided in him. 

They started spending time together and found that they really liked each other. They had fun together, Theo loved to party, he took John to clubs and fancy 

restaurants, and the sex was fantastic. They had their work in common, as well. Theo even encouraged John to get his law degree, something he had wanted for a long time. 

He spent a lot of time at Theo’s loft, they were a couple. It occurred to him one day that he was content, but he still kept tabs on Mickey, he still loved him, and he still wanted him back. 

Theo is the only person that knew how devastated he was when Mickey left him for Ian. Theo often marveled at the effect Mickey had on people, but he didn’t have a problem with him. His feeling was ‘good on him’. 

Things were going well until Theo asked him if he saw a future for them. He said he was ready to settle down, and while he wasn’t sure about kids, he wasn’t opposed to the idea either. 

He knew that Theo would be an extraordinary partner, but he just wasn’t Mickey. He still believed that one day Mickey would come back to him, and he had to be available when the time came. Theo understood. He never tried to tell John that he was wasting his time, he just wished him well and moved on. 

They kept their friendship, dated occasionally, but Theo never brought up commitment again. 

Sometimes he found himself wishing that he would. He really missed what they had, what he had thrown away, what he could’ve had. He wondered if he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He decided not, Mickey is who he wanted. He would wait and Mickey would come back to him. 

It took him more than three years, but Mickey finally came back to him. Now he was gone again. He took a long gulp of his beer and decided he needed something stronger. 

He went to his bar and took out Mickey’s bottle Jack. He made himself a drink as tears poured down his face. I miss him so damn much. Why does this have to be so fucking hard? Why can’t he just be happy with me? I waited for him for over three damn years. Who else would do that shit? He sat on the couch, wiped his face with the back of his hands, and picked up his phone and typed, 

“Hey Theo. I’m free. What you thinking man”? 

He had to wait an hour for a response, “I’m in Boystown. Want to grab dinner, drinks? Figure out the rest later”? 

“Sounds good. Miss you man. Text me where you are”. 

He drained his glass and went to shower. 

He was parking when he saw them. Ian had his arm around Mickey’s shoulders as they walked out of the parking lot. Mickey suddenly turned to Ian and pulled him into a passionate kiss. 

They walked a bit further and Mickey pulled him into an alleyway. He could hear them laughing, then he could hear them moaning. 

He recognized Mickey’s groans, he knew that sound very well. He was crushed, why was this happening to him? What the fuck? Why did Mickey always torment him? Doesn’t he miss me at all? What we have means nothing to him? 

He had to force himself to leave his fucking house because he wanted to be there in case Mickey wanted to come over, and here he was fucking Ian in an alley. 

Mickey was happy, wasn’t even thinking about him. He was fucking Ian right now. Right damn now. Well fuck them. Fuck Mickey. He realized that his cheeks were wet. He pulled the visor mirror down, wiped his face, smoothed his hair back, and got out of his car. Fuck them. 

Theo was waiting for him at the bar. When he walked over, Theo looked at him with a worried expression, “You alright baby? What’s wrong? Let me order you a drink”. 

As he was signaling the bartender, Theo saw Mickey and Ian walk in. He sucked in a breath. Shit. Shit. That’s what’s wrong with him. John and Mickey must be fucking again. He placed a hand on his arm, “Ah baby. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. We can leave. Come on, let’s get you out of here”. 

John had seen them walk in too, but Mickey didn’t see anyone but his precious Ian. He pulled his gaze away and looked at Theo, “Fuck that. I’m not going anywhere. What about that drink”? 

Theo laid a hand on his knee “You sure? I don’t mind if we leave”. 

“I’m good man. Let’s just do this”. 

Mickey had seen John and Theo when he walked in. You don’t grow up on the south side, gay and scared of your own damn shadow without acquiring survival skills. Mickey was able to assess his environment without appearing to do so. 

So, he’s finally seeing someone. Good on him. 

With that, he focused his attention firmly on his man. His tall, goofy, fine as fuck red head had just filled him up like no other man ever could.  
He was aware of the eyes following Ian as they moved through the club. He was used to it after all these years. See right there, some fucker was already trying to get Ian’s attention. 

Hell, they just got here, just walked up in this bitch. Gonna be a long ass night. 

He had suggested that they come here tonight. He knew it would make Ian happy, and it made him feel less shitty about the shit he was doing with John. The shit he was gonna keep on doing with John the first chance he gets. 

He saw another guy licking his lips and ogling Ian. Licking his fucking lips. He shot the guy a menacing glare and pulled Ian closer as they made their way through the crowd. 

John’s drink finally came. Theo nudged his shoulder and smiled reassuringly “Go on baby. Drink it. I already ordered another round. I got you. Always got you, baby”. 

He smiled gratefully, “I know Theo. I don’t deserve you. But thanks”. 

Theo winked at him, “You deserve the best. The very best Johnny”. 

He drained his glass, and another was placed in front of him. He looked around until he spotted Ian and Mickey on the dance floor. Mickey’s ass was backed up on Ian’s dick, they rocked to the music as if they were one person, oblivious to everyone else. 

He sighed bitterly, remembering how Mickey’s ass felt when he fucked it, now Ian was all up on that ass. 

If he was close by, he would have heard Ian say “That’s right baby. Back that ass up on my dick. Yeah, just like that baby. Oh baby, that shit is so good”. 

John didn’t even know that Mickey could fucking dance. When they were together before, he tried to get Mickey to go out partying, he always said “Not my scene man. You go on”.  
Now look at his ass, the life of the fucking party. Anything for Ian Gallagher. 

Theo whispered “His man is really something. Look at him, these guys are ogling the shit out of him, man. They can’t take their damn eyes off him, it’s like they’re mesmerized. Shit. Mickey better watch the fuck out. Red’s got it going on. He’s a fucking rock star. Fuck. Old Mickey’s got his fucking work cut out for him. Shit. Red is one fine ass motherfucker. Damn”. 

John snatched his drink up and glared at him, “I can fucking see him Theo. Real fucking gift to gay mankind, that one”. 

He laughed loudly and kissed John's cheek, “Sorry. I only got eyes for you baby”. 

He settled down and laid his head on Theo’s broad shoulder, “We getting a table or what? I like the wings here. Or do you have somewhere else in mind”? 

Theo was caught up in the glory that was Ian Gallagher, he replied absently, “Whatever you want man. Wings sound good”. 

Just as John was nodding OK, he saw a dude get behind Ian and start grinding on him. Holy shit. He is like a fucking magnet. Men can’t help themselves. 

Ian stepped to the side bringing an unaware Mickey with him. The man wasn’t giving up though, he took a step over too, this time getting closer to Ian’s ass and grinding harder. 

Ian yelled, “Back the fuck up motherfucker. Get off my ass before I knock you the fuck out”. 

The man smiled drunkenly at Ian and kept on grinding. 

Theo laughed and turned his body around to watch, he didn’t want to miss a damn thing, he hollered out, “Shit getting ready to get real up in this bitch”. 

Mickey stopped dancing when Ian yelled, he was about to reach for the drunk, but before he could get to him, Ian had hit the guy in his face. He went flying backward, landing on his back, out cold. 

Theo was laughing and slapping his thigh, hollering, “Well, goddamn Red”, he was doubled over laughing, tears streaming down his face. 

John was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. 

Mickey was standing in front of Ian laughing his ass off. He watched him pick Ian’s hand up and carefully examine his knuckles, then he brought the hand to his lips. His eyes were locked on Ian’s eyes the entire time. After Mickey released his hand, Ian just stood there looking like he just got started. He was ready to rumble. 

Mickey was laughing again, he was bent over with his hands on his knees looking up at Ian and laughing like a fucking maniac. 

If John had been closer, he would have heard Mickey say, “Calm down tough guy. It’s over. You knocked the fucker out. POW”. 

Ian quirked a smile, ran his hand along the back of his neck as he looked around sheepishly. 

Suddenly, everybody went fucking crazy, singing, stomping, and clapping when the band started playing, Love T.K.O by Teddy Pendergrass. 

Theo was still laughing his ass off, but he managed to sing along anyway,

Lookin back over my years

I guessed, I’ve shed some tears

Told myself time and time again

This time I’m gonna win

But another fight, things ain’t right

I’m losin again

(Theo hollered, “Yeah motherfucker you loss again,” Everyone at the bar laughed, even John)

Takes a fool to lose twice

And start all over again

Think I’d better let it go

Looks like another love T.K.O (oh, oh, oh)

Think I’d better let it go (what you think about it boy), let it go, baby (oh, yeah)

Looks like another love T.K.O. (mm, mmm, mmm)

Tried to take control of the love

Love took control of me

(Theo hollered, “Love knocked his dumb ass out,” the entire bar whooped) 

‘Cause you lose all thoughts, sense of time

And have a change of mind

Takin the bumps and the bruises

Of all the things of a two-time loser

Tryin to hold on, faith is gone

It’s just another sad song

I think I’d better let it go (what you say about it?)

Looks like another love T.K.O

I think I’d better let it go

if I know what’s good for me

I think I’d better let it go

Looks like another love T.K.O

Theo nudged John’s shoulder, “Look at Red, over there dancing his ass off. Look at him man. Look at him he’s got some badass moves, flat out throwing down over there. Shit, Red is one badass motherfucker. Shit, hat’s off to Mickey. He must be handling that shit right. Dayum". 

John watched Ian raise his arms in the air and clap his hands as he spun around, his entire body moving to the fucking beat. 

Theo was still laughing and singing after the song ended. He signaled the bartender and handed him his American Express Centurion card, 

“Set the bar up man. Set this shit up. Everybody sitting here. Give ‘em all a drink on me”. 

Everybody at the bar clapped and hurried to place their orders. Those near Theo slapped his back and said thanks. 

John sat back and studied him, “You’re really enjoying yourself huh”? 

Theo chuckled “Yeah man. This is the shit. The absolute shit. Don’t know when I had this much fun. Red is something else man. He handled his shit. No doubt about it. He just seems so congenial, polite and shit. Who would’ve thought he’d just haul off and lay a motherfucker out like that? Didn’t think twice about the shit after he warned that horny, drunk motherfucker, just hauled off and knocked his ass the fuck out”. 

He started laughing again, making John and everyone near them, laugh too.

John took a sip of his drink, “Yeah. Who would’ve thought it? I thought Mickey was the protector in their relationship. But shit, Ian don’t need protecting. He handles his own shit”. 

Theo looked at him, glad he was finally loosening up, “They’re both south side. South side and gay, they had to learn how to handle their shit early on. They would’ve been crucified in the fucking street if they hadn’t. But seriously, that long ass, red headed fucker just looks like he will step to a motherfucker. I wasn’t really surprised. First, he moved away from the asshole, then he checked the asshole, the asshole still didn’t get it. Like he was under a spell or some shit, so Red did what you do in that situation, he T.K.O.’d his ass”. 

He followed John’s line of sight. Ian had spun Mickey around and was hauling him to the door. Mickey had the satisfied, eager look of a man who knew exactly what he was about to get.

Theo thought to himself, he can forget about Mickey. Mickey is Ian’s man. Anyone with half a brain can see that shit. They had something unique, a chemistry that was almost palpable. They had been through some shit. Their thing was set a long time ago, the result of shared struggle and shit.  
They probably didn’t even realize how strong their bond was themselves. But he would be willing to bet a significant portion of his wealth that they would stand the test of time.

The only thing John will get from Mickey is more heartache. He thought back to the song the band had played. Maybe I’ll get it for him. He needs to listen to it real hard, and let it go. There’s no room for competition there, none. Those two will chew him up and spit his ass out. He’ll be left holding his own dick and wondering what the fuck happened. 

But Theo had been around a time or two himself, he knew that John wasn’t ready to listen. The guy is in love. He’s loss all sense of control. 

Mickey was going to deliver his second T.K.O to John the minute Red reeled him in, and he would reel his ass in. He was sure of it. Mickey would drop John like he’s fucking hot. He will never give Ian up, and Ian’s not going anywhere. 

John woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache. He looked around the strange room. He was in Theo’s guest room. What the fuck? He never slept in here, he always slept with Theo. 

He saw two pain pills and a bottle of water on the nightstand. He stumbled to the bathroom, emptied his bladder and used mouthwash. He sat on the bed and took the pills, drinking the entire bottle of water at once. He decided to lay back down until the pills kicked in. 

Theo knocked and opened the bedroom door, “Hey baby. You alright in here? I see you found the pills. They’ll take care of that headache in no time”.

John squinted at him, “Good morning. Thanks man. Why did you put me in here? I throw up or something nasty like that”? 

“Nah., I got you sorted out baby. No worries. You were drunk, though. Last night was a real fucking party man. Just thought you’d be more comfortable in here. Got breakfast started. Feel like getting up? Or I can hook up a tray for you”. 

“You are so good to me. I’m getting up. I wanna eat with you”. 

Theo winked at him and went back to the kitchen whistling. 

Mickey was sitting at his desk thinking about John. He had been thinking about him all damn day and couldn’t wait to get to him, he wanted him bad.  
He was going to surprise his ass and just show up. He licked his lips in anticipation. 

When he saw him at the club last night, he realized that he missed him. He looked damn good. He couldn’t go to him because he was with Ian, and he couldn’t be sure that Ian wouldn’t remember his ass from the day he’d walked up in Mickey’s office. 

Maybe he would understand shit better, now that he was with someone himself. He really hoped so. He liked what they had going on, looked forward to spending time with him. 

But dude had been totally out of order showing up at his office like that. He’s always been pushy, and he had tolerated it, even found it somewhat amusing before he got back with Ian. 

Now he had too damn much to lose, no way was he risking his relationship for a guy he just liked to fuck. He’d see if John understood that, if not so be it. Ian was enough for him anyway. His ass was still tender from last night. His baby had dicked him down really good, real damn good.

Why the fuck was he sneaking off to fuck John then? He had no idea, and he didn’t want to think about it. 

He just wanted to see where the guy’s head is. He’d think about everything else later. He deserved some down time. Just a couple of hours. He could have that. Hell, he was taking that shit.

He parked his truck and jumped out. When John opened the door, he was shocked to see Mickey standing there. He didn’t know if he should me mad, indifferent, or happy. 

“Mickey. What are you doing here”? 

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, “Gonna let me in or what man? Want me to leave”? 

He swallowed and stepped aside, “Of course not. Come on in. I’m just surprised to see you is all”. 

He swaggered inside, “Surprised huh. Why’re you surprised princess”? 

He rolled his eyes, “Sit down Mickey. Can I get you something? Haven’t shopped yet though”. 

“Still got that bottle of Jack”? he asked as he leaned back on the sofa, blatantly checking him out, eyes settling on his crotch.

John blushed, “Yeah still got some. Coke is flat thought. Want ice”? 

“Neat is good. You having one”? 

He poured their drinks, pouring more coke than liquor in his glass, he handed Mickey his and sat down, leaving space between them. 

Mickey shot him a questioning look, John sipped his drink pointedly ignoring him. 

Mickey smirked, “Thought you said the coke was flat man”. 

He grimaced, “It is. Taking it easy. Had too much last night”. 

Mickey moved closer, “That right? What’d you do last night John”? 

He was defiant, fuck Mickey, “Went out with a friend. Had a real good time too”. 

Mickey laughed as he laid a hand on John’s knee, “You looked real good having a good time last night. Real good, man”. 

He almost spilled his drink, “You saw me? You knew I was there”? 

“Just said you looked good. Yeah. I saw your ass. Know you saw me too. Saw you looking”. 

“You’re not even jealous are you Mickey? Not even a little bit”. 

“Why the fuck would I be jealous? It’s what we talked about. You need someone of your own. Got nothing to do with what we do man”. 

He was pissed, “This is all a fucking game to you isn’t it? You don’t care that it killed me to see you drag Ian into that alley and fuck him. You don’t care that I had to watch while you danced with him. I used to beg you to go out with me like that. You never would. You don’t care that I watched you kiss his fucking bruised knuckles. That I watched him drag you out the door. That I saw the look on your face. You never look at me like that. You don’t care about any of it do you Mickey”? 

Mickey wasn’t laughing anymore, his demeanor and his mood had shifted considerably. 

“Look man, I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to upset you. I saw you with Theo and I just thought that we were on the same page. My mistake. I’m sorry. All I seem to do is hurt you. I don’t wanna do that. I won’t bother you again, man”. 

He got up and started for the door, but John stopped him,  
“Wait Mickey. Don’t go. Why did you come”? 

“It was a mistake. I’m gonna leave. Sorry”. 

He had the door open, when John walked up and slammed it shut,  
“I said wait damn it. Can you at least do that one fucking thing for me”? 

Eyes flashing with anger, Mickey warned, “Man watch out. Back the fuck up off me, John”. 

He stepped back so fast he stumbled, he grabbed the wall to steady himself and took a deep breath, “Sorry. Can we just sit back down and start over again”? 

Mickey studied him for moment, “You sure you’re OK man”? 

He wasn’t OK, but he was resigned. He wanted Mickey and he’d do whatever it took to keep him, even if meant giving him complete control. Just like before. 

So, he pushed his anger aside and spoke softly, “Yeah Mickey I’m OK. Just a little upset, but I got it under control. Can you just sit down with me”? 

Mickey walked over to the bar, “Gonna need another drink for that. But you gotta calm the fuck down if I stay. Can’t be walking up on me like that. You know better than that shit, man. The fuck’s wrong with you”? 

“I know that Mickey. I just don’t want you to leave”. 

Mickey came back with his glass nearly filled to the brim and sat down,  
“I came here to see if we could work it out. Keep doing what we do. I saw you with Theo and I thought things could work with us, the way they’ve been working. Thought that if you’re with him things would be better for you, you’d have someone of your own. Guess I got it wrong”. 

John took a sip of his drink, “So you think I’d cheat on Theo? Like you cheat on Ian”? 

Mickey narrowed his eyes, “Use whatever fucking terms you want man. Just telling you why I came. You trying to shame me now, bitch”? 

He took a healthy gulp of his drink and stared John down. He’d He’d had just about enough of his bullshit. He should be at home with his man anyway. 

John stood up, wary of Mickey’s volatile temper, “I’m just asking a question. Not trying to shame you. Hell, I’m helping you cheat. The fuck you think that makes me”? 

Mickey visibly relaxed and patted the couch, “Man come on over here. Sit the fuck down I’m not gonna hurt you. The fucks wrong with you? Have I ever fucking hit you? Might’ve come close but never did that shit. This is all fucked up. All this shit is fucked up”. 

John sat down, “Well you do act like you’re losing your damn mind sometimes. When it comes to Ian. Can’t go to work with my face busted up. Sara would call the police herself”. 

“True that. So, let’s act like two grown ass men and sort this shit once and for all. This bullshit is getting tired John”. He drained his glass, “I need another fucking drink”. 

He went over to the bar, brought the bottle back, and set it down in front of him. He lit two cigarettes and gave John one. 

They sat silently, each one considering what he wanted to say. 

John spoke first, “Mickey tell me what you want, how you want us to be”. 

Mickey looked him squarely in the eye, “Listen up man. I’m not leaving Ian. Not for you, not for anyone. Not ever. I think I would fucking die if he ever left me. I love him, nobody else, only him. I like what you and me do. I look forward to being with you when we can swing it. You’re having a problem handling it, and I’m sorry about that. But I can’t offer you anything else. Nothing else. That’s all I got for you man. I’m tired of hurting you John. I don’t like seeing you like this, you’re a good guy. You deserve to have someone to care about you, treat you right. That’s why I was glad when I saw you with dude last night. I know what we do is wrong. I know Ian would leave me in a second if he found out, but I’m willing to chance it 'cause I like being with you. Like it a lot man. But that’s as far as it goes with me”. 

John listened quietly as he sipped his drink. He wants a mistress, fuck buddy, what the fuck ever. Just gonna have to go along with it for now. 

“Ok Mickey, we’ll do it your way. I want you however I can have you. But you need to know that I won’t stop wishing and hoping for all of you. I want you to be mine. In my mind, you are mine. For now, we’ll just make the best of the time we have together. I’ll go out with Theo when I get lonely. He’s still good to me, but I don’t think he’s into me anymore. He put me to bed in his guest room last night. It’s whatever. But always know you’re the one I love Mickey. I’m gonna wait for you. You came back to me and one day you’ll realize that I’m all you need. I’m willing to wait, you mean that much to me”. 

Mickey reached over and stroked his face tenderly, “Maybe if we had met in an alternate universe, things would be different. We’ll work with what we got. I don’t want to lose you man, not right now”. 

He stood and pulled John up from the sofa and lead him to the bedroom. 

John was feeling hopeful. After their talk, Mickey made an honest effort to see him more. They still fucked a couple times a week, he even stayed real late some nights. They had managed to have lunch together twice, and they even had drinks at a bar in his neighborhood a couple of times. 

The more time Mickey made for him, the more certain he became that Mickey was getting ready to leave Ian. 

He even managed to talk Mickey Into a real date. A date you had to make a fucking reservation for. 

Mickey had really listened to his feelings and he was doing all he could to show how much he cared. He knew that Mickey loved him even if he never said it. 

He studiously ignored the nagging voice that reminded him that Mickey never had a problem telling him that he loved Ian, and that he’d never leave him. 

He was happier than he’d been in a long time. Except for one thing. Something that he’d noticed with increasing frequency lately. That damn look was back. The same look that Mickey used to get when they were together before. Before he went back to Ian. That look had vanished when Ian showed back up. 

Mickey could be sitting beside him, listening to him talk, but he seemed a million miles away. 

Sometimes when they fucked, Mickey’s body responded, but his mind was somewhere else. 

Whenever he saw that damn look on Mickey’s face, he felt an incredible sense of loneliness, of defeat. 

He was afraid to bring it up to Mickey, afraid of what he might say. He couldn’t be missing Ian. Could he? 

He left Ian at home to come to me. He wants to be here with me. He would be at home with Ian if he wanted to be. He chooses to come here. 

So, he convinced himself that Mickey was working up the courage to leave Ian. What else could it be? Mickey had told him more than once, how much he loved Ian. It had to be hard for him to think about ending their relationship. 

From what he had seen, Ian loved Mickey too, and he would be hurt when Mickey left him. 

Yeah, Mickey was right to be concerned, to do it in a kind, compassionate way. That’s what has him so preoccupied. That’s why that look is back. 

He would just have to be patient and let Mickey handle it. Be there for him. Be steady and strong. They were coming down the home stretch now. What else could it be? 

It was the night of their big date, and he arrived early, he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for Mickey. 

He was wearing his best black suit and the blue silk tie Sara had given him for his birthday last year. It reminded him of Mickey’s eyes. 

He used a special conditioner on his hair and even splurged on a cologne that Theo recommended. He always smelled heavenly, so John knew he was good. Theo wished him well but cautioned him to be careful with his expectations. That had surprised him because Theo seldom gave advice. 

He shrugged it off, he was too fucking happy to be cautious. He and Mickey were about to sit across from each other and have a fucking romantic, candle lit dinner in fucking public. 

They were a couple enjoying a romantic evening out in an upscale restaurant. This was their night. What could go wrong? His eyes were glued to the entrance. He wanted to see Mickey when he walked in. He didn’t want to miss a single minute of their evening together. He smiled as he pictured Mickey swaggering to their table.


	29. Guilt and Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey runs into Iggy
> 
> Mickey is consumed with guilt and shame
> 
> Ian comes to understand that they are at war

Mickey was leaving a meeting at the community center when he heard Iggy call his name. Fuck. He didn’t have time for this shit. He had already texted Ian that he was on his way home. They had agreed to spend as much time together as possible. That meant leaving work at a reasonable hour every day. Mickey knew that Ian was trying to learn to trust him again. He had totally devastated his trust in him. What the fuck had he been thinking? 

He knew that Ian wasn’t some dumb motherfucker anxious to believe anything just so he could say he was in a fucking relationship. Mickey believed him when he said he had been a heavy-duty playa. He remembers Ian back when they were teenagers, he was out there back then, before they got serious with their shit. 

He knew that Ian could walk any day he wanted to and never look back. Just about any fucker out there would jump at the chance to get with him. Everybody loved him, he was that kinda guy. He just had it like that, and Mickey’s always known that. 

So why the fuck did he treat him like he was a fucking chump when he knew better? Even when Ian set it out there for him in gut wrenching detail, he had a hard time believing he had done that shit, like that. With no fucking forethought, and Ian just sat back and watched his ass fuck up. Sat back and clocked his stupid ass. Ian didn’t forget any of that shit and he wasn’t done helping his ass remember the lowdown shit he did. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Sometimes he just wanted to run and hide. Get the fuck away from it all. He had caused Ian too much pain. 

Ian didn’t say it, but Mickey knew he was just waiting for John to show the fuck back up. He still thought Mickey had left shit out about his true feelings for that prick. Mickey didn’t think he had, but if he did have undeclared fucking feelings, he was keeping that shit undeclared. Ian would kick his ass out for good this time. He already proved he wasn’t bullshitting when he packed his shit and walked the fuck out. Mickey was a lot of things, but he’d never been a slow learner. 

Now he had to deal with this shit. Fucking Iggy. He stopped and turned around, “What up Iggy”? 

Iggy ran to catch up to him, “Thought that was your truck. See it parked around the neighborhood all the time. Thought you worked at the hospital”. 

Mickey thumbed his bottom lip, “I do work at the hospital. Have meetings and shit at community centers sometimes. What up man”? 

Iggy was studying his shoes, “Just wanted to say hey, that’s all. What, I can’t talk to my baby brother? Too busy or something Mickey”? 

“As a matter of fact, I am busy. Why you all of a sudden wanna chit chat? What changed huh? I’m still living with a dude, fucking him every chance I get. What changed with you brother? Won’t Terry kick your sorry ass if he sees you talking to me? That’s how it works, right”? 

Iggy snarked, “Fuck you Mickey. I just wanted to see how you’re doing is all. Mandy said you all fancy now. Well fuck you then”. 

He started to walk away, Mickey sighed, “Alright man. I got a few minutes. Let me buy you a pop, slice of pie or some shit. Come on”. 

Mickey started toward the diner on the corner and Iggy fell in step with a happy smile. They placed their order and found a table. Mickey pulled his phone out and shot off a text to Ian. 

Iggy laughed, “Red got your ass on a short leash huh? Always was crazy ‘bout your dumb ass”. 

Mickey smirked, “Just checking in. Letting him know where I am. Nothing wrong with that. Works for us just fine”. 

Iggy was still smiling, “Not knocking it man. Got a girl of my own now. She keeps tabs on my ass. I know what it’s like”. 

Mickey looked at him curiously, “You with somebody? Like dating or some shit”? 

Iggy laughed, “What, you don’t think I can get a girl? Get one to be with me”? 

“Never known you to want one. You always been a one and done kinda guy. Didn’t wanna to be tied down to nothing but drugs, man”. 

The waitress brought their order. Iggy dug into his pie and Mickey sipped his Pepsi. Iggy talked around a mouthful of pie, 

“We gonna have a baby in a few months. Had to give the drugs up when I moved in with her. Been living together almost a year now. Doing OK though. Got a shitty apartment back of the yards. It’s OK for us, but we want something better for the kid. You know”? 

Mickey met his eyes and said seriously, “Yeah man, I know. Just do better than Terry, man. You gotta do better by your kid than we had”. 

He nodded, “I know Mick. I’m trying. Been working over at Chuck’s garage. Been there for a year. We got a savings account and shit. Trying to get enough for security deposit, first and last month’s rent you know the shit they require. She works at Patsy’s. Gonna work up until the baby comes. We got all kinda plans and shit. Even talking about marriage and shit. That’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you”. 

Mickey sat back. Here it comes. The fucker needs some money. Mickey quirked his eyebrow, “What’s the other reason Iggy”? 

He ran his hand through his hair, sat up straight and cleared his throat, “Well I heard some guys at the shop talking about a program you got over at the hospital. They said you hire ex-cons, start off part-time, let them work up to full-time. Was wondering if you would think about taking me on? I could stay on at the shop till I made full-time. They say it’s a good program. One dude says he knows a couple guys you got working for you. They ain’t got no complaints. Say you’re fair, treat ‘em right and shit. I already know you’re fair, you ain’t never been a shitty dude. Mick, I know I ain’t got no good work history, but I’ve worked steady for a year. I know Chuck will vouch for me. Tell you I don’t steal shit from him or the customers. I don’t do that shit no more. My girl will kick my ass if I fuck up”. 

He exhaled a long breath and sat back looking at Mickey. 

Mickey regarded his brother intently as he drained his glass, “Iggy the program you’re talking about is a re-entry program. For ex-cons when they first get out. Help them get established and shit, man”. 

Iggy was scandalized. He sat up and leaned across the table, “You’re telling me I gotta get locked up for you to hire me? Mick I just told you I can’t fuck up. Tanya will kill my ass”. 

Mickey laughed, “I’m telling you about the program you asked about Iggy. You don’t qualify for it. There are other jobs I can hire you for. But I gotta tell you, I don’t take no shit man. I run a tight ass ship. You gotta be professional to work for me. I’m willing to give you a chance, but if you fuck up your ass is out. Can you handle that? Think real fucking hard before you answer man”. 

Iggy was beaming, “I promise Mick. No bullshit from me. I’ll be the most professional motherfucker up in that bitch. You’ll be bringing other motherfuckers to me for professional training and shit”. 

Mickey was laughing so hard other customers were looking at their table. Mickey caught his breath and said, “Iggy shut the fuck up. I missed you man”. 

He smiled gratefully, “Missed you to Mick. I’m sorry for all the shit I took part in. I never cared about you being gay. I Knew when you and Ian first started sneaking around. Never said nothing, didn’t bother me none, man”. 

Mickey was shocked, more than shocked, “You knew back then? You knew about me and Ian and you didn’t tell Terry”? 

“Yeah, I knew. Followed y’all one night. Didn’t stay for the main event or nothing. Just wanted to see if my suspicion was right. I saw and I left. That’s how I know that Ian’s always been in love with you. I watched the shit play out man. He’s good for you”. 

Mickey smiled, “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. It don’t get no better than Ian. I love him, man”. 

Iggy was still smiling, “I know you love him. I knew y’all had been through some shit. Know about his bipolar shit, heard about how you came out in the Alibi. But I didn’t know that other shit about the whore till that day you damn near killed Terry with that fucking bat in the Alibi. That was some heinous shit man. I started getting ready to leave that fucking house after that day. I always knew he was a dirty motherfucker, but that shit made me done with his ass. I got out Mickey. I fucking packed my shit and walked the fuck up outta that bitch”. 

Mickey smiled, he was proud of him, “I’m real glad you left man. You got a real life now, a woman you care about, a baby on the way. You’re happy. Got dreams and shit. Planning for your family’s future. That’s what it’s about. I’ll help you any way I can. Come on over to the hospital and we’ll get you set up with something.” 

He handed his phone to Iggy, “Dial your number so you can call me before you come. Set up an appointment, make sure I’m available”. 

Iggy took the phone, “Yeah, professional like. Thanks Mickey. You won’t be sorry man. Gonna be employee of the year and shit”.

When he got home, he told Ian about Iggy. Ian was doubled over laughing as Mickey told him what Iggy had said about being professional. 

Ian told him, “I’m glad you’re gonna hire him. Sounds like he’s getting his life together, just needs some help. You’re a good brother Mick”. 

He smiled bashfully, “Wanna help him if he’s trying to help himself. I was really impressed when he told me he’s been working at the garage for a year. That’s what made me agree to hire him so quickly. He wants me to talk to Chuck. Says he’s sure the guy will give him a good recommendation”. 

“Are you gonna talk to Chuck? Check Iggy’s story out”? 

“Yeah. Gotta make sure everything is good before I send him to those personnel fucks. They would love for me to slip up. They already think I’m running a fucking criminal ring”. 

Ian chuckled, “I’m happy for you guys. You’re gonna be an uncle Mick. Kids love you. It’ll be so good. Think they’ll let us babysit”? 

He leaned over and kissed Ian softly on the lips, “We’re gonna be uncles. Both of us baby. Pretty sure they’ll be begging us to take the brat off their hands. I don’t know about kids loving me. They exhaust me, never know what to do with ‘em. Only kid I ever liked is Liam. Franny screams when she sees me. She loves you. Guess she thinks she’s looking at herself when she looks at you”. 

Ian let out a belly laugh, “Shut the fuck up Mickey. How could she think she’s looking at herself? I’m sure Debbie has let her look in mirror by now. She knows I’m her uncle Ian. Debbie tells her all the time, and she screams because she doesn’t see you a lot. Just gotta get to know you. To know you is to love you baby”. 

Mickey winked at him, “That’s me alright. Now how was your day”? How did your meeting go”? 

Ian sat up straight and Mickey noticed the slight frown on his face, “It was fine. They seemed to be paying attention. Roxanne asked a lot of silly questions, but I answered them with my famous ‘Ian’ smile. Charles sat in with me. He jumped in and basically repeated my answers when they were being down right petty. He was great, always sets them straight”. 

“He was great huh? I’m sure he was”. 

Ian ignored his sarcasm as he went on to tell him about the meeting, 

“They just feel threatened, and I understand that. But expanding our services will benefit everyone. Provide more job security, not to mention the impact on the community. I can’t tell you how many people we’ve lost in the back of the rig because the people around the victim just didn’t know how to help. They would tell me ‘I saw him pass out, but I didn’t know what to do. So, I called you and waited with him till you got here’. We need to empower people, give them the chance to be good citizens. The chance to help each other out. That will make the community stronger, more cohesive and shit. You know what I mean”? 

Mickey smiled, “I know exactly what you mean Ian. And you’re right. We need programs that will serve the community in a meaningful way. Not just the same old, outdated shit. You’ll get it done. Your proposal is solid man”. 

Mickey was thinking about the times Ian tried to talk to him when he was writing the proposal and he brushed him off. How some evenings he’d wait for Ian to pull out his laptop, and that would be his opportunity to leave the apartment to go fuck John. 

Hell, he hadn’t even known what was in the proposal until recently. Ian had been reluctant to let him read it, always saying that he would get Mickey a copy. He never did, Mickey had to straight up pressure him for a copy. And he couldn’t fucking blame him. It was his own damn fault. His behavior had been deplorable. 

For all Ian knew, his sudden interest was just an attempt at appeasement. Shit. He had so much to make up for. He was a fucking piece of shit.

He understood now why Ian would constantly tell him how sorry he was when they first got back together. He would say shit like ‘I’m so sorry Mickey. I treated you so bad, never should’ve left you all alone like that. I’m so glad you took me back. I promise I’ll make it up to you”. 

He knew now, how Ian had felt then, because he felt like he couldn’t apologize enough. He couldn’t express his love and commitment enough. 

He found himself waiting for Ian to say they tried, but it just wasn’t working for him and ask Mickey to leave. 

Yeah, he knew how Ian had felt, the uncertainty he had lived with. 

He longed for Ian to love him liked he used to. He longed to feel Ian inside him, no other man had ever filled him up like Ian could. He longed for their passion. 

He had given Ian the lab results showing that he was clean, and he’d simply smiled and said, “Good. Thanks for doing it Mickey”. 

That was two weeks ago, and they still weren’t fucking. He didn’t want to bring it up. Hell, he didn’t even know how to bring the shit up. At least Ian held him while they slept. That had to be enough for now. He just had to hunker down and just fucking wait it out. He would wait for his man for as long as it takes. 

Ian lay awake long after Mickey fell asleep that night. I miss him so much. I miss feeling the way he opened up and enveloped me, his warm tightness surrounding my dick. I miss the way he took it, all of it, I miss his bossiness. Used to call him ‘my bossy bottom’. What did John call him? Was he as needy for his dick as he used to be for mine? He was supposed to be all mine. Not anymore. We promised each other forever this time. Didn’t happen. Fuck.

Mickey interrupted his thoughts, “Man what are you thinking about so hard? The meeting got you that worried”? 

Ian made to get out of bed, “No. Was gonna get some water. Go back to sleep Mickey”. 

He put his hand on Ian’s arm, “Ian stop. You know you don’t drink water this late. It makes you piss all night. Keeps your ass up. Now tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help, at least let me try? Please”? 

Ian sighed tiredly. He was so damn tired, but he couldn't sleep. He didn’t really want to talk to Mickey about it. Didn’t want him to think he was nagging, throwing shit up in his face all the time. He felt like it was his problem and he should sort it out on his own. What could Mickey do about it anyway? He’d fucking done enough already. 

Mickey sat up and folded his arms across his chest, “Come on baby. We’re both awake now. Might as well tell me what’s bothering you. I wanna know Ian”. 

He turned on his side, away from Mickey, “We talked about it already. Just gotta sort shit out for myself Mick. You have private thoughts and feelings that you don’t share. We all do. Gonna go back to sleep now”. 

“What about that water you wanted? Changed your mind huh”? 

He whispered, “Go to sleep Mickey”. 

“Ian did I do something to upset you? You gotta tell me baby. How can I fix it if you won’t tell me? I’m trying hard here, Ian”. 

Ian had enough. He had the fucking nerve to ask if he did something wrong. Fucking A, he did. He turned over, “Yeah Mickey you did something. You fucking cheated on my ass. That shit enough to keep me up huh? Or you gonna sneak your ass in there and count my fucking pills? I must be manic right”? 

Mickey thought to himself, this is it. He’s gonna make me leave. I know it. Fuck. He spoke softly, “Ian I’m sorry for what I did. I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of my life if I need to. You know I love you. But baby please don’t send me away. We can work it out. We gotta stay together Ian”. 

Ian sat up, “You scared you’ll go back to him if we don’t live together Mickey? Scared you won’t be able to help yourself? Sure couldn’t help yourself while we were together. Don’t worry he’s still waiting for you to come back. He just loves you so, so fucking much remember? Nothing else matters, just you. Pretty sure he’s missing you real bad round about now. It’s been awhile. He’s used to getting all up in that ass at least twice a week. Probably more than that if y’all fucked at lunch time. Probably did”. 

He took a long, deep breath, “Ian I don’t want him. If we break up tonight, I won’t go back to him. I don’t want him baby”. 

Ian rubbed his tired, burning eyes, “I know how hard you’re trying Mickey. I’m trying hard too. I’m trying hard to stop imagining him fucking you, him bending your ass over. I’m trying to stop imagining him cumming deep up in your ass. Trying to stop thinking about how good that ass must’ve felt to him Mickey, how good his dick felt to you. Did you shout his name when you came Mickey? The same way you used to shout my name, huh? Was supposed to be my ass. Mine. Trying to stop thinking about him making you cum all over his hand while he pounded that ass hard and jerked that dick. You know how you do, and John knows too. He knows how to fuck you how you like it. He made you his. You’re not mine anymore. He took over that ass, owned it, and you let him Mickey. He was so good, you wouldn’t even touch me. You didn’t even want me to touch that ass. It belonged to him. Remember the sudden headaches Mickey? You’d say dumb shit like ‘I don’t know why I’m getting these headaches. Gotta get in to see the doctor’. Remember Mickey? And what about all those nights you slept in the other bedroom because you had so much fucking work to do? So fucking considerate, didn’t want to keep me up. You’d take your laptop and close the fucking door. Sometimes I’d look in before I went to bed and you were already asleep clutching your fucking phone, laptop across the damn room on the fucking dresser. Were you sexting with him Mickey? Just looking at his dick did more for you than my dick in the flesh did. You didn’t want me Mickey. You wanted John. If I didn’t walk up on your dumb ass, you’d still be fucking him. You only stopped because I found out and left your sorry ass. And John knows that too. He knows you only stopped fucking him because I walked up on you, if not for that, he’d still be getting his sweet ass. And it is his ass Mickey. It’s not mine anymore. That’s why the motherfucker is so persistent. You let him make what used to be my ass, his very own ass. That’s what’s fucking wrong Mickey. He had a lock on your ass. All the shit you did was fucking wrong Mickey. That’s what the fuck is wrong asshole, and I can’t get past it. Sometimes I think it was a mistake to ask you to move in. It’s unfair to you. I look at your fucking lab results every day, every fucking day thinking ‘he had to get this shit done because he fucked another guy. He let someone else possess that ass. My ass. How could you Mickey? How the fuck could you? That’s what’s wrong Mickey. And I’m not handling it well at all. Not at fucking all. Some days I don’t even know if I even wanna handle this shit. Why the fuck should I? I’m not some hard-up motherfucker. I can find somebody to fuck, somebody I can trust not to fuck around on me, somebody who is faithful and honest. Or if I want a fuck buddy, plenty men out there who’d be happy to accommodate me, let me set the terms and shit, be at my damn fucking beck and call. I can show you how the shit is done Mickey. Give your wanna be ass some fucking pointers. Any day I want, I can fucking walk, bitch. I don’t need your cheating ass. I got skills motherfucker, and they fucking precede my ass. Ask around, you deceitful motherfucker. Gonna treat me like a fucking pussy with that idiot ass, sniveling bitch. You don’t even know who you’re fucking with Mickey. Gonna cheat on me. Fuck you”. 

Shit. I knew he was thinking about leaving me. Fucking knew it. All I can do is plead. Oh my god.

“Ian, baby calm down. I know you can leave me and find somebody better. Always knew that shit, man. I know how blessed I am to be loved by you baby. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you so bad. I know I'm not worth it, but please don't leave me. Don't send me away”.

“I think maybe I should just be on my own. It’s just that I tried so hard Mickey. I tried so hard to be better when you took me back. Wanted to make you see that I deserved another chance, I really don’t know what else I could’ve done to please you. I thought you were happy with me. Thought we were solid. I don’t know what to trust anymore Mickey. I’m just really fucked up and I don’t know what to do about it. Feels like I’m punishing you and I don’t wanna be that guy. I don’t know what to do. I’m tired, Mickey. So fucking tired of it all”. 

They lay there in silence for a while. Mickey didn’t know what the fuck to say to all that. He had no fucking defense. Maybe he was just being selfish. Maybe he should just leave and let Ian figure it out on his own, and if he still wanted him, he would be waiting for him. 

Ian had been devastated by this shit, knocked on his ass. Mickey knew that feeling well. The very man lying next to him had been the source of his own devastation. He remembered how confused and angry he was back then. 

He had been angry at Iggy and Mandy, but he had been consumed with anger and bitterness toward Ian. Because he loved Ian more than anything in the world, and his betrayal had damn near killed him. 

It had taken him well over a year to contact him, to let him know he was out of prison. He remembered how hard it had been to let go of those feelings of betrayal and abandonment. 

Those feelings became his armor. For as long as he remembered how Ian had treated him, he couldn’t be hurt again, he was protected. It seems that he never let go of those fucking feelings. He Just buried them. 

Was fucking John his misguided attempt to keep them buried? Fuck if he knew. He didn’t know shit about shit.

He remembered how hard it had been for him to listen to Ian’s excuses for hurting him, how incensed he was by those flimsy ass excuses. 

Like that shit could be rationalized. Well, the shit he had done to Ian couldn’t be rationalized either. 

There’s no justification for hurting someone who you know is in love with you. Someone you claim to love. Someone who is committed to you. 

What about John then, he asked himself. After listening to Ian, his guilt had lessened considerably. He had been upfront with John from the very beginning, and more than once when they started back up. 

He had chosen to ignore what Mickey told him time and again. He was all about making Mickey change his mind and leave Ian.  
With the insight he gained listening to Ian, he concluded that John’s predicament was his own damn fault. The guy knew what he wanted and zeroed in on it, disregarding Mickey’s protestations, and throwing all caution to the fucking wind. When shit hit the fan, he was left with his ass out, wondering what the fuck happened. He fucking loved and lost. Mickey decided he was going with that.

However, if he’s being honest, Ian is right, he does have feelings for John. He certainly doesn’t love him and never, ever wants to see him again, but he knows how vulnerable the guy is. 

He wants him to be alright. To find someone to love who can love him back. He wants him to find happiness, he deserves that. He doesn’t think that you can be with someone who loves you so intensely, and not have feelings for them yourself. 

Ian knows that. It’s one of the things that has him so upset. Mickey decided he will never confess to those feelings, because it won’t serve any useful purpose. 

Plus, Ian already knows it. 

He and Ian had hurt each other badly more than once. The very core of their relationship had been shaken a few times, but they were still together, still trying to figure the shit out. He was going to do everything he could to make sure they stayed together. 

His voice was low and hoarse from unshed tears, “Ian all I ask is that you trust in our love. That, and your forgiveness is all I can ask. I fucked up so bad baby. When I listen to you talk about what I did and how you felt while I was doing it, I feel like the piece of shit Terry always said I was. I feel so much guilt and shame, and I’m deeply sorry. It’s so hard for me to hear you talk about the hell I put you through, to hear you lay bare my deceitfulness. But I know that I need to listen because I know you need to say it, and I will listen until you don’t need to say it anymore baby. I will sit and I will listen”. 

Ian rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands, “Here’s my problem Mickey. I think I could handle it better if it had been anyone but him. You went back to him just like you came back to me Mickey. You came back to me because we had something together that you thought was worth saving. Something of value to you. With John, you felt adored, powerful. His eyes shone with love for you or some such bullshit. You valued that. Just because I walked up on you doesn’t mean you don’t need that anymore. Doesn’t mean you don’t miss his adoration, doesn’t mean you don’t miss him. You needed him so bad, you treated me like shit to get to him. I mean he fucked that ass on the regular. I been around Mickey, I was out there, and you know that, but you still treated me like I fell off a fucking turnip truck or some shit. But I’m here to tell your ass that I know from fucking lived experience, you get with a fuck buddy whenever, you fucked John on the regular. He was your partner, you just didn’t live together. Still haven’t figured out how he got your lying ass up in Preppy’s. That’s a fucking date Mickey. Fuck buddies don’t fucking date. They fuck and go the fuck home. They are for fucking, that’s all. You stayed for fucking pillow talk before you dragged your fucked out, lying ass home Mickey. I don’t understand how you’re gonna do without something you value so damn much. Especially when it’s yours for the taking. You weren’t done with him when you walked your lying ass up in Preppy’s that night were you? Did you go there to tell him it was over? Fuck no. You went there to dine, then the plan was to go home and fuck him. You’d already told me you would be real late before your lying, cheating ass stormed out that morning, bitch. My guess is you were gonna fuck him over and over that night. Celebrate your love and shit. That’s what you do with your man after a fucking romantic dinner, motherfucker. You think I’m fucking stupid Mickey? I might’ve thwarted the plan temporarily, but you weren’t done with his ass. I just don’t believe you’re done with him Mickey, not for a fucking minute do I believe you’re done with his sniveling, bitch ass. You would still be fucking him on the regular if I didn’t walk up in that bitch. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that shit huh?”. 

Ian was wild-eyed, pacing and shouting by the time he stopped talking. He collapsed on the bed sobbing. Mickey didn’t know what to do. Should he try to comfort him? He felt like sobbing his damn self. He set the box of tissues next to Ian and said, 

“Baby please stop crying. Gonna make yourself sick. I can leave if it’ll make you feel better. I’m so sorry for hurting you Ian. I’ll never hurt you like this again. On my fucking life, I promise you that. I’m sorry for disrespecting you like that. I don’t want him. I don’t need anything from him. I love you. You’re all I need Ian. All I ever needed. I made a bad mistake baby”. 

He sat up and blew his nose, shaking his head sadly, “I just don’t know Mickey. I don’t know. Too much for me. Just too damn much”. 

He got in bed, pulled the covers snugly around his shoulders, and turned his back, he whispered, “Good night Mickey”.  
Mickey rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and sighed heavily, “Good night baby. Gonna get a cigarette. Try to get some sleep. I love you. See you in the morning”. 

He got up and quietly left the room. 

He sat on the sofa in the dark thinking for the rest of the night. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep so he didn’t even try. He couldn't get Ian’s words out of his head. He had hurt him so fucking badly, and he didn’t know how to make it better.

I'm a fucking piece of shit. I don't deserve his forgiveness. When he asks me to leave, I won't try to pressure him, I'll just leave. All my fucking fault. Until then, I'll just keep on loving him. What the fuck else can I do? Fuck. Fuck.

When Ian didn’t get up to go running the next morning, Mickey decided to make a large breakfast. They would have more than enough time to eat it. He cocked his head listening for sounds from their bedroom. Ian needed to get a move on, they usually left for work at 8:45, he would drop Ian off and go on to the hospital. Neither of them had to clock in, but they liked to keep to their routine. Maintaining a routine was one of Ian’s coping skills. 

He decided to take Ian's coffee in to him. He poured two cups, intending to keep him company while he got dressed. 

He opened the bedroom door and stopped abruptly. Ian was still in bed. He was in the same position Mickey left him in last night, only now his head was covered. Shit. Fuck. 

Mickey walked over quietly and placed both cups on Ian’s nightstand,  
“Baby I brought your coffee. Feel like drinking it while it’s still hot? Got a cup for me too. Thought we could drink it together”. 

He inched down carefully on the bed next to him, knowing that Ian didn’t like being crowded when he was feeling like this, “Not feeling good this morning? We were up late. Gonna call Charles and let him know you’re taking the day off. Any business shit you need me to tell him? Gonna call my office too. Let them know I won’t be in. Think I should call the doctor too. See if we can get you in this morning. What do you think baby? Your coffee is right here. Try to drink some. Be back in a few minutes”. 

He waited to see if Ian would respond, when he didn’t, Mickey left the room and closed the door softly. 

He called his office first, and then Ian’s office. 

“Good morning Charles. This is Mickey. Ian won’t be in today, he's not feeling well”. 

Charles was silent for a moment, “Um. Is he alright? He didn’t say anything to me yesterday”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes. This motherfucker. 

He took a calming breath, “I’m sure you can handle anything that comes up. If there is anything else you need to know, I’ll get back to you with it. Have a good day now Charles”. 

Mickey disconnected the call. He sat back and scrubbed his hands down his face. Shit. Shit. Gotta get him in to see the doctor before this shit gets real bad. 

Ian’s doctor answered the phone himself, said he just walked in. He could see Ian at 11:00. Mickey sat back trying to collect himself. Here goes the hard part. 

He went to the fridge to get water for Ian, just in case he could persuade him to drink it. 

He went back into the bedroom and sat next to him, “Baby I called the doctor. He can see us at 11:00. It’s 9:30 now. We need to start getting ready. You want a bath or a shower? I can get in with you if you want. Help you out a bit. Whatever you need. I love you baby, and I’m right here. Gonna take good care of you Ian”. 

He didn’t respond, and Mickey hadn’t expected him to. He had learned early on how to treat Ian with dignity and respect when he was having an episode. He knew how important it is to talk to him, to ask his permission before touching him, and to not impose his own will on him, unless absolutely necessary. 

He decided a bath would be easier for them both because sometimes Ian was too weak to stand on his own. He filled the huge tub with warm water and the bubble bath that Ian liked, then he went to get him. He still hadn’t moved. 

Mickey walked over to Ian’s side of the bed, “Bath is ready baby. Used that bubbly shit you like so much. Probably used too much, but it sure smells good in there. Gonna pull the covers back now. Ok baby”? 

He waited a beat and gently pulled the covers back, “I think it’ll be easier if we get you undressed in here. That OK with you? Let’s get those boxers off while you’re laying down. Think that’ll be easier on you. Let me know if I hurt you now. Don’t wanna hurt my baby”. 

He got the boxers off and asked gently, “Think you can sit up for me Ian? That’s OK. I got you baby”. 

When Mickey sat him up, Ian collapsed against his chest. He slowly worked the T shirt up and off, raising one arm at a time. Ian was panting against his chest, tears rolling down his face. Mickey was afraid to kiss him, so he wiped his face with tissues and let him rest for a minute,  
“You’re doing so good baby. Don’t worry, I got you. Gonna take good care of you Ian. I’ll always take care of you. Now let’s get you in that big ass tub. Gonna carry you in there. That OK tough guy”? 

Ian looked at him, tears still falling and nodded his head. Mickey smiled happily. He got a response. He carefully picked him up and carried him to the bathroom, 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you baby. Think you can use the toilet first? That ok”? 

He eased him gently onto the toilet and held him upright while he did his business. 

Mickey cleaned him up, “Ok baby. You’re doing so good Ian. Ready for the tub now? Come on lean on me. Take your time now.” 

Ian stumbled to the tub on wobbly legs, Mickey’s arm around his waist, 

“Gonna pick you up and help you sit down in the water. Ok”? 

Ian had his eyes closed but he nodded his head. Mickey picked him up and gently sat him down in the tub, “That OK? Need some hot more water? Enough bubbles for you? Smells good huh”? 

Ian slumped against the side of the tub unable to sit upright on his own. Mickey held him up and asked, “Want me to get in behind you? You can lean back on me while I bathe you? That alright”? 

Ian just looked at him with a defeated expression, tears rolling down his cheeks, clearly exhausted. Mickey held onto Ian’s arm with one hand and hurriedly undressed himself with other, “Baby don’t cry. I’m right here. Nothing to worry about. I got you Ian, not gonna let nothing happen to you. You know that don’t you? I’m gonna scoot you up a little bit so I get in behind you. Just a little bit. Not gonna hurt my baby”. 

Mickey got in behind him and Ian fell back against his chest, “That’s right Ian. Lean on me. I got you. Think we need some more hot water. Yeah? Won’t take long, we’ll be outta here in no time. Then you can sit in that big ass chair while I get you dressed. Then we can Leave. Ok tough guy”? 

He bathed Ian quickly, got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his own waist. 

“Gonna get you out of there now. I know you’re tired baby, but you’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you. Let’s get you out. I won’t hurt you baby”. 

Mickey stood him up, wrapped him in an over-sized towel and carried him back to the bedroom. 

He made him comfortable in the chair, and quickly got him dressed. 

“You did so good Ian. Gonna carry you to the bed and let you rest while I get dressed. Then we can leave. We got plenty of time. Not gonna rush you baby. Can you drink some water for me? Try a couple sips? Don’t want you to get dehydrated? We know how bad that shit can be, and we still gotta take your pills, can’t forget that. Probably be the first thing the doctor asks about”. 

He carried him to the bed and gently laid him on his side and placed a pillow under his head, 

“That OK? Comfortable enough? I’m gonna get dressed. You rest now baby. You did so good”. 

Ian closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep. Mickey stood looking down at him. I love you Ian. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I hate to see you like this. I hate myself for doing this to you. You are so brave and strong. I’ll always take care of you. That’s my promise to you. On my life.

He got dressed and checked the time: 10:15. He got Ian’s pills, walked over to the bed and stood looking down at him, he was curled up on his side, snoring softly. Mickey was chewing his bottom lip furiously. I triggered this shit. I fucking did this to him. Jesus. I should suffer, not him. 

He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and sat down next to Ian and spoke softly, “Time to get going baby. Appointment’s at 11:00, 10:15 now. Sorry to have wake you up, but we gotta go. You need to take your pills first though. You want water or juice baby?”. 

Tears were falling from Ian’s closed eyes. Mickey said, “Don’t cry Ian. It’s gonna be fine. You don’t have to be scared. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Please don’t cry baby. Can I wipe your tears for you? Gonna use a tissue OK baby? I got you Ian”. 

He dried Ian’s face, and he opened his eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry Mickey. So tired. Wanna sleep. Let me sleep Mickey. Please just let me sleep. So tired”. 

Mickey’s heart was breaking, “Nothing for you to be sorry for sweetheart. You’ve been so good. I know you’re tired. When we get back, I’ll let you sleep all you want. I know you need your rest baby, but we gotta see the doctor. I’ll put you in the back of the truck, get you all comfortable, and you can sleep on the way there and again on the way back home. I am bringing you back home Ian. Promise. How’s that? But you need to take your pills first. Can I sit you up”? 

He opened his eyes, “Ok Mickey”. 

Mickey gave him his pills and managed to get him to drink a third of the water. He counted that as a success. Ian closed his eyes and fell asleep immediately. 

Mickey was thankful for Lester, the doorman. When he explained that Mr. Gallagher was not feeling well, and he would need to leave the truck out front while he helped him down, Lester said, “Whatever you need Mr. Milkovich. But I can bring your truck to the service entrance. More privacy, easier for you”. 

He heaved a huge sigh of relief and handed over his keys, “Thank you Lester. Won’t forget you man”. 

Lester smiled, “Not necessary. Mr. Gallagher is a cool dude. You are too, sir”. 

“Yeah Lester, he sure is. Really appreciate you man”. 

They had made it to their appointment on time and were now back home. Mickey had undressed Ian and made him comfortable in bed. He was sitting on the bed next to him, running his fingers through his hair, he knew that was soothing to him. Thankful that Ian was able to stand his touch. 

He spoke softly, “Sweetheart you were so good. So brave and so strong. The doctor said it shouldn’t be long before you’re feeling better. He just adjusted the dosage, so no new pills to worry about. Maybe a few side effects while your body adjusts, but nothing major. You’ll be up in no time. That’s good news huh? He told me to call him tomorrow, let him know what’s up. He faxed the new prescription over, so I just gotta pick it up. Won’t be gone long. Thought I’d stop at the ice cream shop you like and have them make you a nice thick milkshake. I know how much you like their shakes. You pointed the shop out when you took me around the neighborhood, remember? You want vanilla or strawberry? Maybe I’ll get both, I can drink the one you don’t want. Sound good baby? You need anything before I leave? I won’t be long baby”. 

Ian didn’t respond, but Mickey paused before placing a light kiss on his forehead, smiling happily when Ian didn’t jerk away. 

He got up, “Be back soon baby. I love you so much Ian”. 

He opened his eyes briefly and nodded, tears inching down his face. Mickey wiped them away with a tissue, kissed his forehead, and quietly left the room. 

Mickey was back from CVS and he was relaxing on the sofa with a beer. He wanted a cigarette bad but decided to stay close in case Ian needed him, he had gotten him to take his medication and drink half of his strawberry milkshake. He would try to get him to drink the rest later. 

He picked up Ian’s phone and noticed two texts from Charles. 

The first was sent before noon, “Hi Ian. Just checking in. Mickey said you weren’t feeling well. Can I do anything for you? Everything here is fine. Let me know if you need anything at all. Worried about you”. 

The second one was sent at 3:00, a couple hours ago, “Haven’t heard from you yet. Really worried Ian. Are you alright? Please let me know. Should I come on over? I can bring that chicken soup you like”. 

That fucker. He’s got shit real twisted. His fucking concern is more than an employee should have for his boss. Told his ass I’d get with him when he needed to know something. He looked in on Ian. He was curled up in the fetal position, sleeping soundly. He closed the door softly and went to the fridge for another beer. 

He lit a cigarette and sat down in the recliner on the patio, thinking about how to approach Charles. Fuck him. Who does he think he Is? He re-read the texts and called him form Ian’s phone. 

He answered on the first ring. Fucker must be holding the fucking phone, waiting for Ian to call. 

He said in a rush, “Ian? Are you alright? I was so worried when I didn’t hear from you all day. Do you need me to come over? Pick up something for you? I’m happy to do anything you need Ian”. 

Mickey told himself to calm the fuck down, “You heard from me Charles. I told you this morning that Ian is not feeling well. Now I’m telling you that he won’t be in for a few days. Pretty sure you can handle anything that comes up there at the office. Ian depends on you for that. That’s your job Charles. I will handle anything to do with Ian. Don’t concern yourself with him. That’s my job. I will check in with you daily, let you know if anything changes with his status. You will let me know if something comes up that you can’t handle. I will pass it on to Ian. If you feel the need to text, text me. Ian is unavailable. That clear enough for you Charles”? 

It took a moment for him to respond, his mind was reeling. When he answered the call, he assumed Ian was calling him. Why was Mickey calling him from Ian’s phone? He had even read the texts he sent earlier. What the fuck is going on? Where is Ian? He had a right to know. 

He swallowed noisily, “Mickey. Yes, I understand. I was just worried about him. We work so closely together, and all. Just wanted to be sure he was OK. No harm in that is there? Of course, I will take care of everything here. Nothing for Ian to worry about. Thanks for getting back to me”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Could’ve done it a lot sooner if you had texted me instead of Ian. You have my number, it’s the number I called you from this morning, Charles”. 

He snapped, “Fine. Is that all Mickey? Got some things to finish up before I head out”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes again. This dense fucker just ain’t getting it. He spoke sharply, “So long as you’re clear on the ground rules I just laid out. Goodnight Charles”. 

Mickey disconnected the call and lit another cigarette as he sat back and thought about the call. The dude is in love with Ian. Poor unfortunate asshole. He was gonna have to keep jerking it to his damn imagination. That’s all he’s ever gonna get. Motherfucker.

A couple hours later, Mickey turned the stove off and slid the grilled cheese onto a plate, hoping Ian would eat some of it. He grabbed Ian’s milkshake, a water and headed to the bedroom. He knocked softly and went in. Ian hadn’t moved. 

He sat down next to him, “Baby can you wake up for me? Made you a grilled cheese just the way you like it, no crust, lots of cheese and butter. Even cut it up, make it easier for you to eat. Can you sit up for me sweetheart? Try to eat a little bit”? 

Ian shook his head, “No”. 

Mickey smoothed his hair back, “I know you’re tired baby. How about a few sips of your milkshake then? Still got half left. Let’s sit you up. Try for me baby. Please”? 

He opened his tear- filled eyes, “Don’t want it Mickey. Leave me alone. Don’t make me. Tired, wanna sleep”. 

Mickey’s heart was breaking, he leaned over and kissed his forehead, 

“Not gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do Ian. I’d never do that. Just don’t want you to get dehydrated, and when you take your pills on an empty stomach you get sick. If you could just take a couple of sips for me, I’ll leave you alone for a while. Let you rest. Will you try for me baby”? 

Ian let out a shaky, but exasperated sigh and moved to sit up. Mickey helped him, “Maybe you can finish it all, what do you think”? 

Ian rolled his eyes and reached a trembling hand out for the milkshake. Mickey laughed as he helped him hold it, “There he is. That’s my tough guy”. 

Ian took a few sips and pushed it away. He stared at Mickey with a hard glare, Mickey held his gaze, “That the best you gonna do? Take a few more sips for me? Then I’ll help you to the bathroom and you’ll be good to go. Come on baby. A few more sips”. 

Ian finally nodded, he took a few more small sips and turned his head away. Mickey smiled proudly, “Thank you baby. Knew you could do it. I know how hard it is for you. But you always try so hard, and I got the rest. I got you Ian”. 

Ian regarded him silently before closing his tired eyes. Mickey said, “Can you let me help you to the bathroom? That’s the last thing and you can sleep. Gonna let me help you baby”? 

He nodded slowly and tried to push himself up. Mickey kissed his forehead, “Here, let me help you. Just lean on me. We’ll take it real slow. I got you”. 

He was able to stumble to the bathroom with Mickey shouldering the bulk of his weight. Mickey held him steady while he emptied his bladder sitting on the toilet, then cleaned him up. 

“How ‘bout I carry you back? You did so good walking in here, know it tired you out, sweetheart”. 

Ian nodded as vigorously as he could manage. Mickey smiled and kissed the top of his head, leaned down, gathered him up, carried him to the bed and gently laid him down. Ian fell asleep instantly. 

Mickey covered him up and stood looking down at him. My love. My precious love. I hurt him so bad, caused him so much pain. I fucking triggered this shit. It was too much for him. Then I ask him to listen to my fucking feelings about John, after all the shit I’d done, I fucking asked him to listen to that bullshit. Fuck’s wrong with me? I saw how much it was affecting him, but I had to express my fucking self. I hurt him all over again. Fuck. Fuck. 

A sob escaped his throat as he hurried from the room. 

Ian woke up as Mickey was closing the bedroom door. He was instantly alarmed. Was Mickey crying? Did something happen? Why was he crying? What’s wrong with him? Is it bad news about me? Did the doctor tell him something? Nah. Mickey wouldn’t keep shit like that from me. He would tell me, he always tells me what’s going on with me. 

He read that pamphlet about the right way to deal with family members with mental illness when I first got diagnosed all those years ago, he and never forgot it. Took that shit serious. Always makes sure I know what’s gonna happen to me. He takes pride in that shit. 

John entered his thoughts, reminding him that no, Mickey didn’t tell him everything. Tears slid down his cheeks as he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. 

Not gonna think about that shit now. I gotta find out what’s wrong with Mickey. Something bad must’ve happened. He had to get to him. Mickey needed him. 

He tried to sit up too quickly and was hit with waves of dizziness and nausea, sweat pouring off his face. He leaned back against his pillow and took shallow breaths until he could breathe normally. He took a deep breath to calm himself. 

Finally, the nausea and dizziness subsided. He could make it. He had to, Mickey needed him. His sweet Mickey needed him. He just had to get to the door. Open the door. Mickey would be on the sofa. He could do this. Mickey said he was strong. He would crawl if he had to. 

He thought back to when they were kids and he’d be practicing his ROTC maneuvers and Mickey would be shooting at random shit for target practice.  
Yes, he knew how to crawl. 

He took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty forehead with shaking hands. He sat up very slowly and waited to see what would happen. Good, not dizzy. Just gotta take it slow. Like Mickey said. No hurry. 

He eased his body to the edge of the bed and slowly scooted up closer to the head board. He paused to catch his breath. He sat up slowly, carefully swiveled his hips, and placed his feet on the floor. Good. Just gotta stand up now. 

He paused and wiped at the sweat that was pouring down his face with the back of his shaking hand. He took a deep breath and used the head board to help him stand on wobbly legs. 

He was hit by another wave of dizziness. Shit. His legs gave out and he collapsed on the floor crying. Fuck. Fuck he was useless. Mickey needed him, and he couldn’t even fucking stand up. 

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, eased onto his knees and started crawling slowly to the door. He wasn’t giving up. It was slow going, but he finally made it to the door. 

He reached up and tried to turn the door knob, thankful for his long arms. It was a struggle because he was so weak, and his arm was shaking so badly, he couldn’t reach up for long. 

After several attempts, he finally managed to turn the door knob and get the door open. He wiped the sweat from his face with his hand and took a moment to rest. 

Almost there. I’m coming Mickey. Almost there. He took a deep breath and slowly crawled into the dark living room. 

He could hear Mickey’s muffled sobs. He’s trying to be quiet. Don’t wanna wake me up. Always thinking about my sick, useless ass. 

He stopped and took another deep breath and resumed his slow crawl. Almost there. I fucking did it. 

He reached up and grabbed Mickey’s thigh with shaky hands, 

“Mick? What’s wrong? Why’re you crying? What happened?” he asked in a low, breathless voice. 

Mickey shot up, startled, ready to pounce. Then Ian’s voice registered, 

“Ian? Baby how did you get out here”? What are you doing on the floor? You get sick or something? What do you need baby? Sorry I didn’t hear you call me.” 

Ian was out a shaky breath, he was thoroughly exhausted, “Heard you crying. Came to see about you. Fucking legs gave out, so I crawled. What’s wrong Mickey? Why’re you crying”? 

Mickey wiped his face with the backs of his hands, his voice was low and heavy with unshed tears, “Let’s get you up here, off the floor. Sorry I worried you baby”. 

He gently lifted Ian onto the sofa and held him tenderly in his arms, 

“I’m fine Ian. Just thinking, nothing to worry about. Sorry I woke you up baby. I know how much you need your rest. Let’s get you back to bed. Did you hurt yourself when you fell? Where did you fall Ian”? 

He mustered as much strength as he could and rolled his eyes,  
“I’m fine. I fell over by the bed. Didn’t hurt nothing. Now, Mickey why are you out here crying”? 

Mickey grabbed some tissues and blew his nose noisily, “Nothing baby. Just thinking about all the shit I put you through and how strong you are. I’m so sorry Ian. For everything”. 

Ian shushed him, “I love you Mickey. We love each other. We’ll get through it. Promise”. 

Mickey saw that his eyelids were drooping, “Let’s get you back to bed. Get you comfortable”. 

Ian shook his head, “Stay here with you”. 

Mickey smiled and gathered him in his arms and covered them both with their afghan. He was soon asleep himself.

Ian started feeling better four days after his medication adjustment. On the 5th day, he got up, showered by himself, but Mickey stayed in the bathroom. 

He joined Mickey at the kitchen counter to drink his coffee and nibble at a croissant. He still tired easily and was a bit unsteady on his feet, but he was feeling better. 

Mickey was shocked at the amount weight he loss in such a short period and he still had very little appetite. Mickey had been trying to tempt him with his favorite dishes from the neighborhood delis and restaurants. 

He even considered having Sara order Ian’s favorite dishes from Flaming Embers if his appetite didn’t improve soon. The doctor told him to expect some weight loss while his body adjusted to the dosage increase. But this shit seemed drastic. A few more days of this shit, and Ian would be a scrawny ass fucker. He decided to call the doctor later while Ian was resting. 

Ian sat there quietly studying Mickey. The night he found Mickey crying had really shaken him. It made him understand that he had to really take Mickey back or let him go. Let him go for good. 

The shame and guilt is destroying him. He’s constantly looking inward, telling himself what a piece of shit he is. That’s he’s bad at his core. He did a terrible thing, but he’s not a fucking terrible person. 

I don’t want him to shut down and hide like he did when we were kids. I need him present, so I can fucking heal. So he can heal. So we can heal the fucking trauma that happened to our relationship. We’re in a fucking war. We gotta fight together.

He understood why the very thought of John infuriated him so. He was jealous that he knew Mickey so intimately. He knew how to please him, and he knew how Mickey responded to pleasure. He knew Mickey’s body the same way Ian did. 

It infuriated him that Mickey went back to him. He was jealous that John was so important to Mickey, that he had something that Mickey liked so much that he wanted it back, that he needed it again. 

If Mickey had just met some random guy and started fucking him, he could accept that better. Move on from it. But Mickey and John had a fucking relationship, a real connection. Mickey cares for him, no matter how much he denies it. 

And John knows that he cares. Why else would he be so persistent, so utterly stupid? Because he knows, just like I know that Mickey cares for him, and if he cares, John believes he has a chance. I believe it too. John wants me to know that, has gone out of his fucking way to make sure I know that. 

He shook his head when he heard Mickey call his name. 

“Ian? Baby you ok”? 

He smiled, “Yeah Mick. I’m good. Today is a good day. Just thinking about work. Did you talk to Charles today? Everything alright at the office”? 

Mickey went to the fridge and poured a glass of juice for him, “Yeah. Talked to him already. He’s handling everything. No problems. Said your staff miss you, send best wishes and shit. You feel like talking to him”? 

“Yeah. Thinking about calling him later. Gonna take a nap first though. What about your office? You haven’t been there all week Mickey”. 

He took Ian’s hands in his and squeezed gently, “And I won’t go in until you’re feeling better. I’m not leaving you here alone while you’re adjusting to the new dosage. My first job is to take care of you Ian. This is what that Family Medical Leave shit is for. I read my benefits packet. I know what the fuck’s up with my shit. My rights and shit”. 

Ian laughed, “You’re a crazy ass fucker, you know that”? 

Mickey kissed the tip of his nose, “But you love my crazy ass”. 

He stood up slowly, “That I do. I do love your crazy ass. Now come help my invalid ass to bed”. 

Mickey got up, wrapped his arm around Ian’s waist and they laughed and joked their way to the bedroom.


	30. I've Been Loving You Too Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a night out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've Been Loving You Too Long, by Otis Redding

Ian was getting stronger every day, he was starting to eat more, but not nearly enough to satisfy Mickey. He still shopped around for anything he thought Ian might enjoy. He was just too damn thin. He wanted his big, muscled toned man back. 

He did call Sara, but not about Flaming Embers’ private catering services. He needed her help to plan a date night. He explained what he had in mind and sat back, knowing this would take a minute. He pictured Sara sitting behind her desk concentrating, slight frown on her face as she twirled one of her locks around her finger. 

She finally said, “Yes. Yes. I know just the place Mick. The Alley is the place you’re looking for. It’s a small supper club, very intimate, superb service. Four-piece band, they’re really very good. Perfect for what you have in mind. I’ll arrange it. When do you want to go”? 

He chuckled, “Sara you’re not paying for this. I’m a gainfully employed man with a competitive salary. Thank you very much. Where is this ‘alley’ place located? Gonna google it and make the reservation”. 

“Mickey, it’s ‘The Alley’, and they’re booked months in advance. They cater to a select clientele. I’ve never seen more than twenty people in there at a time. Told you it’s very intimate. And you’d have to work a few months to afford it on your competitive salary. Now, tell me when you want to go, and I’ll arrange it. And Mickey, these establishments don’t discuss money with me. They send that shit to my accountant, you know that. You also know that I spend my money as I please. It pleases me to spend my money on you and Ian. Simple. Now give me the date. I need to get back to work”. 

Mickey gave her the date and thought about what she said, “If they’re booked months in advance this won’t work Sara”. 

“They’ll accommodate me Mickey. And another thing, better take an Uber. You’ll pass right by it, and Ian hasn’t regained his strength yet. He doesn’t need to be walking around trying to find the place. I need to hang up now. Love to Ian. Happy he’s feeling better. I’ll text you the info. Love you”. 

She disconnected the call, leaving him looking at his phone and shaking his head. 

On the morning of their date night, Ian was up and showered, and had the coffee made before Mickey even woke up. Mickey came out of the bedroom smiling, 

“Raring to go huh tough guy”? 

Ian was beaming, “Excited about our date Mick. Was reading some reviews. That’s a classy ass joint, man. One review said the tables are so far apart you think you got the whole place to yourself. You don’t even have to call for the waiter, they just pop the fuck up, Mickey. They anticipate and shit. But you don’t feel overwhelmed, they got that discreet shit down”. 

Mickey was laughing, “Calm down baby. Don’t get yourself all worked up. Everybody knows how much you appreciate fine dining and shit, princess”. 

He poured Mickey’s coffee, “Sit your ass down and drink this coffee and shut the fuck up Mickey. With your crazy ass. Just telling you what I read, so we’d have a feel for the place.” 

Mickey kissed him softly on the lips, “I love you baby. Glad you’re excited about tonight. Planned a surprise for you, too”. 

Ian jumped up too quickly and Mickey had to steady him, “Baby take it easy. You Ok”? 

Ian rested his head against Mickey’s shoulder until the dizziness subsided, 

“Yeah. I’m fine. What surprise Mickey? Tell me. What is it”? 

“You’ll see soon enough. Gonna knock you off your ass though. Promise you that princess,” Mickey said with a smirk. 

Ian rubbed his hands together, smiling happily, “Thought I’d go to the office for a few hours. Charles has some things that need my signature. He wanted to bring them by, but I wanna check on things. Don’t worry, I won’t over do or anything. Gotta be in good shape for tonight”. 

“Sure you’re up to it? He can messenger that shit, Ian”.  
He didn’t think this was a good idea at all. He was concerned that Ian was going to exert himself. It didn’t register that Charles wanted to bring the documents himself. 

“Yeah I know baby. Just wanna check on things for myself. Figured since you’re going in today, I could get a ride with you, take an Uber back home around noon”. 

Mickey used his thumb to tilt Ian’s chin up and studied his face, 

“If you’re sure man. I’ll drop you off and walk you in, and I’ll pick you up at noon myself. We’ll grab some lunch, relax until time to get ready. Sound Ok”? 

Ian smiled softly, “Yeah Mick. Sounds good. Gonna make some toast so I can take my pills. Want some or you gonna just have cereal”?  
“How ‘bout I make some eggs to go with that toast? Long time till lunch man”. 

Ian nodded Ok. He was so excited he’d agree to just about anything. Mickey was taking him to an exclusive restaurant for dinner, and he had a surprise for him. Fucking A, he’d eat some damn eggs. 

When Ian walked into the office Charles sprang up from his chair so fast, he kicked his waste basket over, and had to grab the desk to steady himself. 

“Ian! Ian why didn’t you tell me you were coming in. Glad you’re feeling better. Here, let me help you. You look a little shaky still”. 

He was so excited to see Ian, he didn’t notice Mickey with him. 

Mickey watched the fool, he quirked his eyebrows and smirked, 

“Slow down there Charles. Gonna have a workmen’s comp case if you don’t watch yourself, man. I got Ian. He’s fine. Gonna step aside and let us pass anytime soon”? 

Charles glared at him and stepped aside, “Sorry. Didn’t see you Mickey. Good morning”. 

Ian stifled his laughter and resumed his slow, but steady gait with Mickey close behind. Mickey gave Charles an exaggerated smile, “Good morning Charles. Sure gonna miss our daily chats, man”. 

Charles stared at him with cold eyes, “Whatever Mickey. Ian can I get you anything? Just brewed a fresh pot. You always like my coffee. I’ll bring a cup in to you and I’ll catch you up on things”. 

Mickey said sweetly, “Make that two cups please Charles”. 

Ian smiled at Charles, “Thanks Charles”. 

He hurried off to the kitchenette, “No problem Ian”. 

Ian was ready to leave when Mickey came back at noon. He closed the folder he was reading, looked up at Mickey smiling happily, “Hey baby. I’m ready. Just waiting for you. Everything alright at your office”? 

He leaned over the desk and placed a soft kiss on Ian’s lips, “Yeah. All good. Iggy cornered me, had to make sure I knew how good he’s doing. What a fucking model employee he is. Crazy ass fucker. How’d you do? Get too tired”? 

Ian was laughing, “Nah. I’m fine, Mick. Glad Iggy is doing good. He just needed a chance, glad you gave it to him. Sara always says you should help people in a meaningful way, to the best of your ability. I did get a little hungry though. Charles went to the deli next door, came back with two BLTs, I ate half of mine. Saved the other half for you. It was pretty good, must be getting my appetite back”. 

“That’s good man. Eggs this morning, half a sandwich for lunch. That’s my baby. You look tired though. Let’s get you home”. 

Ian picked up his desk phone and asked Charles to please get his sandwich from the fridge. He stood up and said, “I am a little tired. Gotta build my strength back up, I guess”. 

Mickey stood and waited for Ian to make it around the desk, “Want me to take your arm or walk behind you”? 

“Think I can make it outta here on my own. Just stay close”. 

Mickey gave him a quick kiss, “I got you Ian. Anything you need”. 

When he was settled in the truck, Ian sniffed and said, “Something smells good in here. What’d you buy this time”? 

“That bean soup you like. Figured you’d be too tired to stop for something. Maybe you’ll try half a cup when we get home”. 

“You’re so good to me Mickey. Take such good care of me. I want you to know I really appreciate you. You make me feel precious. I love you so much”, he said smiling softly. 

Mickey placed a hand on his thigh, “You are precious. Precious to me”. 

Ian took a long nap when they got home, while Mickey caught up on some work. 

Now they were sitting in the Uber trying to figure out where the restaurant was. The driver was looking out the window at the buildings across the street, 

“According to the navigator, your address is over there. One of those buildings”. 

Ian leaned over Mickey to get a better look, “One of those buildings? Are you sure? Maybe we got the wrong address Mickey”? 

Mickey remembered Sara saying they would walk right past it if they weren’t careful. 

The driver turned to look at them, “What are you looking for anyway”? 

Mickey ran his hand along the back of his neck, “Place called ‘The Alley’, man”. 

The driver thought about it for a minute, “Sorry. Never heard of it. Gotta be one of those buildings over there though”. 

“Yeah. She said it was secluded. What the fuck ever. Thanks man. Come on baby. This is the right place”. 

He patted Ian’s thigh, “Stay here. Let me get your door”. 

He got out and walked around to Ian’s side and opened the door for him to step out. He put his arm around Ian’s waist, and they walked across the street. 

Mickey pointed to a non-descript building, “That’s it. Where’re the fucking people? How do we get in, knock on the door or some shit”? 

Ian was so excited, he was actually giggling, “Maybe they got secret cameras trained on the street, Mick”. 

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Shut the fuck up Ian. We’re here for dinner. We ain’t spies and this ain’t the fucking CIA”. 

Ian was bouncing around with excitement, “I see a buzzer. Come on”. 

He pulled Mickey up to the building and pressed the buzzer. 

A disembodied voice said, “Yes”? 

Mickey cleared his throat, “Reservations for Sara Greene”. 

The door was opened by a man dressed in an expensive black suit, with a charming smile, “Certainly Mr. Milkovich. Welcome to The Alley. I’m Evan, please, come right in”. 

They were led to a booth tucked away in an alcove. Evan (Mickey didn’t know if he was a waiter or the maître d or the damn owner) stood aside while they settled in the booth. 

Evan said, “Ms. Greene recommended Dom Perignon Rose for you tonight. May I suggest Oyster Spheres to start? Very tasty, I might add”. 

Mickey looked at Ian who said, “Yes. That’ll be fine. Thank you, Evan”. 

After Evan disappeared, Ian whispered, “The reviews said the oyster spheres are really good here. Not every chef can do ‘em right, you know?”. 

Mickey chuckled, “No baby, I didn’t know. Figured you’d read up on ‘em. But why’re you whispering”? 

Ian looked around and smiled sheepishly, “Oh. I don’t know. Why do you keep looking at the band? You heard them play before”? 

“Nah. Just looking around. Getting a feel for the joint,”  
he used finger quotes, “‘the intimate setting and fine dining’”. 

Ian took Mickey’s face into his big hands, “Thank you for bringing me here Mickey. This is so special. I love you”.  
He beamed as he placed a soft kiss on Mickey’s lips. 

Mickey kissed the tip of his nose and smirked, “You can do shit like this when you got a rich, influential friend that don’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’. I could’ve never got us in here. Sara said this place is booked months in advance. One call from her, and here we are. I told her that I wanted something real special for you. A fucking night to remember, let you know how special you are to me. Want you to know how deep my love is. I would do anything Ian. I just want us back, baby”. 

He whispered, “I know Mickey. I want us back too. I really do. We’re gonna be fine baby”. 

They sat quietly holding hands as they listened to the band. Evan re-appeared to serve their champagne and oyster spheres. Mickey thanked him, and he promised to return shortly before disappearing again. 

Ian noticed the slight nod Evan gave Mickey. He also noticed Mickey’s preoccupation with the fucking band. The music was nice, but not anything they listened to. They both preferred throw-back music and smooth jazz. 

Carl and Lip always ridiculed them for their music tastes. Maybe Mickey was trying to develop new tastes. 

But Ian had more important things on his mind. He placed a hand on Mickey’s arm, “When’re you gonna tell me what my surprise is Mick”? 

Mickey chuckled smugly, “Was waiting for that. Calm your tits princess. All in good time. Just plan to be surprised”. 

“You’re killing me here Mickey. Tell me when, then”? 

“All in due time baby”, he said as he leaned in and kissed the tip of Ian’s nose. 

Deciding that Mickey wasn’t going to tell him anything, Ian busied himself looking around trying to spot other diners, so he missed Mickey’s subtle nod to the band leader. 

Per Mickey’s instructions, Sara had arranged for the band to play a special song for them. This date was special, and everything had to be perfect.  
He wanted Ian to remember the way they were. To remember how they started out all those years ago.  
He wanted him to remember all the obstacles they had overcome. He wanted him to remember why their love is worth fighting for. He wanted him to fight for them one more time. 

When the first chord of the song sounded, he stood and extended his hand to Ian. Ian’s heart rate accelerated. Was Mickey asking him to dance? Mickey never volunteered to dance. Not ever. 

Yet, here he was with a beautiful smile, standing with is hand outstretched. Ian blinked and stood, he took Mickey’s hand and followed him onto the small dance floor. 

Mickey took Ian’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist and pulled him in. 

They began rocking to the music. Mickey looked into Ian’s eyes as he sang softly, 

I’ve been loving you too long to stop now

You were tired and you want to be free

My love is growing stronger, as you’ve become a habit to me

Oh, I’ve been loving you a little too long, I don’t want to stop now, oh

Ian’s eyes filled with tears as he listened to Mickey croon. Mickey gently wiped Ian’s tears with his thumbs, staring deeply into his eyes. Ian was transfixed by the love shining in Mickey’s eyes. Not many people knew that Mickey had a beautiful voice, he seldom sang. But Ian knew. He also knew that Mickey was singing this song because he knew how much Ian loved it. He held Mickey tighter and listened to the words of the song. He listened to what Mickey wanted him to hear. 

With you my life has been so wonderful

I can’t stop now

You were tired and your love is growing cold

My love is growing stronger as our affair grows old,

I’ve been loving you a little too long, long

To stop now

Oh, Oh, Oh

I’ve been loving you a little too long

I don’t want to stop now no, no, no.

Tears were streaming down Mickey’s cheeks by now, but he kept singing. 

Don’t make me stop now, no baby

I’m down on my knees, baby please, don’t make me stop now

I love you, I love you

I love you with all of my heart

And I can’t stop now

Please, please don’t make me stop now

I love you with all of my heart

Please, please don’t make me stop now

Mickey’s vulnerability was on full display, he didn’t give a damn who saw. Ian was smiling as he kissed Mickey’s face over and over. They held each other tightly and rocked to the music. Other diners, sitting at strategically placed tables clapped softly when the song ended. 

They heard parts of whispered conversation as they made their way back to their table, holding each other tightly, 

“I wonder what he did”? 

“Bet it was the ginger”. 

“No, the dark haired one, he was singing. Had to be him”. 

“I don’t know which one fucked up, and I don’t know what he did. But I do know somebody is sorry for something”. 

Ian and Mickey looked at each other and laughed. When they settled in their booth, Mickey caught the band leader’s eye and nodded his thanks. 

Ian couldn’t take his eyes off Mickey, he whispered, “Mickey. Oh Mickey. My love”. 

Mickey smiled smugly and brought Ian’s hands to his lips, “Surprised you, huh princess? Told you”. 

He smiled softly, “Yeah, you did. You told me all of it, and I heard you Mick. I heard you baby”. 

Mickey’s eyes were shining, “I love you Ian. I know I put you through hell, and I’m so sorry. I don’t have words to express how fucking sorry I am. How much I regret what I did. I made a bad mistake, risked everything I hold dear. That’s you baby. You are the only thing in this world I hold dear. I will always fight for you.  
For us. Please baby, will you fight for us one more time? Our love is worth it Ian. Always has been, always will be. We can’t stop now. I can’t stop now. Don’t wanna stop, Ian. You’re it for me”. 

Ian drew a shaky breath, tears shimmering in his eyes, “We won’t stop Mickey. I won’t let anything stop us. I have loved you too long to stop now. You are my dream Mickey. All I ever wanted is you. Even when I treated you badly, left you all alone, I wanted you. Longed for you. It’s always been you. That shit was set when we were kids sneaking around. I understand the things you told me Mickey. Didn’t like hearing the shit, but I do understand. Just gonna have to find a way to set all that shit aside and move on. Just like you had to do when I asked you to give us another chance. This is the same thing, just a different fucking set of circumstances. We both made mistakes, devastating mistakes, but our love is strong enough to overcome any obstacle. I’m committed to us Mickey”. 

He pulled Mickey onto his lap and kissed him deeply. 

After they caught their breath, Mickey looked around sheepishly as he quickly scooted off Ian’s lap, “Fuck Ian. People will see”. 

Ian laughed loudly, “Which people? I don’t see any people. This from the gay ass man who just sang a love song to his partner while they slow danced in front of those same people”? 

He smiled bashfully, “Guess you got a point there. Where the fuck Is Evan? Had enough of this oyster shit. Gotta feed my baby”. 

Ian snickered when Evan appeared with a huge smile on his face.

Mickey woke up the next morning with a smile on his face and that familiar ‘Ian ache’ in his ass. Ian had dicked him down real good, his dick drought was finally over. Thank fuck. He vowed to treasure his man for the rest of his life.


	31. Pressing Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are working hard on their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there. Just a few loose ends to tie up.
> 
> I will indicate when we're almost there. 
> 
> This is a relatively short chapter, dealing with inner monologues.

A couple weeks later, Mickey was sitting at the kitchen counter looking through the course catalog that came in the mail for Ian today. 

The chicken breasts were marinating in the fridge, everything was ready to go when Ian got home. They were settling into a routine that suited them both. They were past most of the awkwardness, but they realized they still had a long way to go. They promised to keep talking things through, and to keep being honest about their feelings. 

Mickey would sometimes notice Ian staring off into the distance, an unreadable expression on his face. During those times, he tried to be empathetic, letting him know that he understood the pain and misery he caused. He wanted Ian to know that he took all of it seriously. He betrayed their love, the very essence of them. He fucked up so bad. 

Sometimes Ian was short with him, but that wasn’t the norm. Sometimes Ian would question him about his whereabouts, his suspicion evident. He would assure him. Tell him how much he loved him. Promise him that he would never hurt him like that again. 

There were times when Ian would abruptly say he needed space and leave the apartment. Mickey had no idea where he went during those times. He suspected that he took long walks, trying to clear his head. He just rolled with it. There was really nothing else he could do. But all in all, they were making progress, and most importantly, they were still together. 

As was often the case when he was alone, Mickey thought about what he had done to their relationship, what caused the the transient aloofness in Ian, and the profound sadness. 

He was perplexed by his cold blooded and thoughtless actions. He thought about how his actions had devastated Ian’s trust in him, destroyed his sense of safety in their relationship. He had fucking traumatized Ian, drained him emotionally. He triggered Ian’s fucking depressive episode. He hated himself. 

He was confounded by the lack of insight into his own fucking psyche, the deep-seated anger and resentment toward Ian that he hadn’t been aware of, or at the very least hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. He was no mental health professional, but he knew there was more to it. Had to be. He was seriously, fucking damaged.

He struggled to understand why he went back to John after three fucking years. Did his fucking ego need a boost or some shit? 

Did he lack a sense of self-worth? Did he ever have any? Why don’t I value myself? Why the fuck don’t I think I’m worthy of good shit? Because Terry always told me I was piece of shit, never would amount to anything? Because after all this time, Mandy still thinks I’m south side trash, a fucking south side thug? Because Ian’s older siblings treat me like shit, don’t think I’m good enough for him? Because they’ve always made sure I know that shit? Well, fuck them. 

They can all kiss my fucking thuggish ass. 

He knew his self-esteem had been pummeled when he got out of prison. Back then, he had been fucking done with his feeble ass attempt at living. But with Sara’s heIp and support, he turned that shit around. He thought his self-esteem had improved with his fucking accomplishments. Hell, he earned his degree. He was a fucking department head at the hospital. He got back with Ian. All fucking self-esteem boosters, as far as he was concerned. So, what the fuck was the problem? 

He was aware of this shit now, but he knew that he needed help to deal with it effectively. That meant fucking therapy. His biggest fear was that more shit would surface. How much can one flawed motherfucker take? Shit. 

He was gonna do it. He almost lost Ian over this bullshit. He wasn’t taking any fucking chances.

Ian had just closed his laptop when Charles knocked briefly and stuck his head in, “Hey Ian. You ready to head out yet”?

“Just about. I’m gonna be a few more minutes, but you go on. See you in the morning Charles”.

“No hurry. I’ll just wait in here with you, so we can walk out together,” Charles said as he walked up to Ian’s desk.

Shit. I just need a fucking minute to damn myself. Fuck. 

“Thanks Charles, but I need to make a call before I leave. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening”. 

He saw a flash of disappointment on the guy’s face. 

Charles recovered quickly, “Well OK. If you’re sure? I really don’t mind waiting at my desk while you make your call, Ian”. 

This was his alone time with Ian. He looked forward to walking out together, recapping the day, briefing discussing tomorrow’s agenda. This was their time. He looked forward to it all day, and he wasn’t giving it up easily.

Ian massaged his temple and sighed deeply, “No, you go on ahead. Don’t know how long I’ll be. Good night Charles”. Just fucking go already. Leave me the fuck alone.

“Well OK then. See you in the morning. Have a good night, Ian,” he said as he reluctantly closed the door.

Ian sat back in his chair, massaging his temple. Gotta handle that shit soon. Another fucking thing to do. 

He just needed a damn minute to himself before he went home. Home to Mickey. He didn’t want to go home today, he wanted to run the fuck away. Far away from Mickey and all this shit. 

He was doing all he could to contain his rage. He didn’t feel it all the time, most days he was fine, they were fine. Happy even. They were still together, trying to work it out.

But today was a particularly bad day. Nothing out of the ordinary happened today to warrant his foul ass mood, and he didn’t understand how he could feel hopeful about their future one day and consumed with memories of the things Mickey had done the next damn day. He was so tired of it all. Fucking tired of it.  
He felt like he had been fucking body slammed emotionally. The lies, the manipulation, the recurring images of them of them fucking. He treated me like I was a fucking fool. How he could he? How do I even know if I’m enough for him anymore? How do I know if I please him? What if he goes back to John again? The fucker still wants him, still waiting for him. I didn’t deserve this shit. None of it. I tried so hard to be good to him, to love him, and he does this shit?

He understood Mickey’s feelings, his anger and resentment, and he understood why he couldn’t accept those feelings. He papered them over because they terrified him. 

To acknowledge them would cause him to question everything he wanted. Mickey wanted him, wanted them to have a future together. So, he had ignored anything that would jeopardize the future he wanted for himself. 

He did the same thing when they were kids, when he couldn’t accept being gay. He chose survival over self-acceptance. That’s the shitty choice life presented him with. 

Thanks to his shitty fucking life, his ass wound up costing us the relationship we had. The relationship we built together. 

But he knew there was more to it than that. They both had shitty childhoods filled with abuse, neglect, poverty, abandonment, and violence. Those things were at the root of all this shit. They both were fucking maladjusted. Fucking maladjusted gay men. He couldn’t blame Mickey for this mess without accepting his share of blame. Fuck. 

He wished he could shove all this shit to back of his fucking mind and go on about their life, but years of therapy wouldn’t allow it. 

He didn’t see his therapist for regular sessions any more. He stopped he decided to compete for the VP position because of time constraints. He only saw her when something came up. 

He knew that he needed to resume the regular sessions, but he was so busy with work, and he wanted to complete his degree. He only had a year left. One fucking year. Fuck. Fuck. 

Another fucking casualty of Mickey’s deceitfulness. He heaved a frustrated sigh, packed up his desk and went home to Mickey.


	32. Iggy Has News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is indifferent about Iggy's news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter.

Iggy had just clocked out for the day when he saw Mickey heading to his office “Hey Mick. Hold up man”. He hurried to catch up with him.

Mickey stopped and waited for him, “Iggy, what up man? You done for the day”?

“Yeah, just clocked out. Another day, another dollar and shit,” Iggy said, grinning proudly.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a regular upstanding citizen. John Q public and shit”.

Iggy laughed loudly, “Glad I saw you. Got some news. Going to your office”?

“Yeah come on,” Mickey said, wondering what kind of news.

They went into Mickey’s office and closed the door. Mickey went to the fridge, tossed a Pepsi to Iggy, and took one for himself.

Iggy took a large gulp and belched loudly, “Thanks man. Just what I needed. You’re a helluva boss”.

“Fuck you Iggy. What news you got man”?

“Terry man. His fucking legs didn’t heal right. Some shit about ‘infection’ and ‘nonunion’. Whatever the fuck. Anyway, his fucking legs didn’t heal, gotta use that damn walker permanently, man. Plus, he’s still pissing in that bag. Forgot what it’s called. You really fucked him up, and he deserved damn every bit of it”.

“It’s called a Foley bag Iggy. Who told you all that shit”? Not that it mattered, he was just making conversation.

Iggy drained his bottle and belched again, “Saw Joey the other day. Said they’re looking for a home to put his ass in, they don’t wanna be bothered with all that. Too much work, changing that bag and shit. Joey said he already got one dick infection, pissed backed up and shit. Had to stick a tube in his dick to get that shit to come out, start back flowing right and shit. He don’t try to help himself. Just sits there scowling and farting all day. Don’t hardly talk either, don't wanna eat nothing they try to give him. When they think to feed his ass. He hates that walker, so they stole a wheelchair from somewhere, fucker hates that too. Hates everything and everybody. You know those two shitheads ain’t exactly the fucking compassionate care-taking type anyway”.

Mickey sat back in his chair, “Ironic, man. They did all the dirty, heinous, illegal shit, even went to fucking prison for his ass all their lives, and now the assholes won’t take care of his sorry, infirm ass. I guess that family loyalty bullshit has its limitations. Fuck ‘em all man, fuck Terry especially. I really don’t give a shit. What about Mandy? She won’t help him out either”?

“Guess not, man. They already been to two of them nursing home places. Nobody wants his ass. One place gave ‘em a bunch of papers and shit to fill out, said they need to apply for Medicaid or Medicare, or some shit. I guess they’re too fucking dumb to fill the shit out. I told Joey to go to the social services office or the community center, they’ll help him with the paperwork. He said, ‘fuck Terry’, he ain’t going nowhere. He said uncle Ronnie don’t even come to the house anymore. For the first time in his life, Terry is fucked, and he can’t do shit about it. Can’t kick nobody’s ass, can’t threaten no damn body. He can’t do shit. Fucking asshole”.

Mickey laughed, “Man, fuck ‘em all. Dumb ass fucks, all of them. They’ll figure it out or not. I really don’t give a fuck”.

“Just wanted to let you know what I heard. I say too fucking bad. Terry finally got what his ass deserves. Enough of that shit, on to some important shit. Me and Tanya finally got enough saved up to start looking for a decent apartment man, and I just got my first step increase. I got a fucking raise man. Tanya's cooking me a special dinner and everything. Said she's proud of me, man”. 

“I know you got the increase Iggy. I approved the shit. You deserve it. You’re doing a good job. Proud of you, man. Keep it the fuck up. You’ll go far, my man. Sky's the fucking limit and shit”.

Iggy grinned, “Fuck you Mickey”. 

v


	33. Later, John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets discharged from the hospital after his surgery, but things don't work out the way he planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters and we're done.

John had signed his discharge papers, his prescription had been called into the CVS near Theo’s loft, he had his follow-up appointment, he was dressed and waiting for Theo to pick him up. 

He sat in the chair beside his bed thinking about his last conversation with Mickey. 

He was having a hard time accepting that Mickey had threatened him, hinted at fucking killing him even. He didn’t believe for a minute that Mickey would kill him, he knew he wasn’t a murderer. But having resorted to such a vicious threat, let him know how badly Mickey wanted him out of his life. 

He sighed in frustration, wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do now. All his hopes and dreams had been wrapped up in Mickey. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do? How could Mickey just walk away from him like that? What about them? 

What about all they had meant to each other? How could he forget what they had together? How could he dismiss all they had meant to each other like that?

Theo walked in smiling, pushing a wheelchair, “Hey Johnny. Ready to go man? How’re you feeling”?

“I’m good Theo, ready to go. Took care of everything. Good to go,” he said with a wan smile. He sat down in the wheelchair, holding the Walmart bag Ian left.

“Ok. Sure you got everything?” Theo asked.

“Yep, I’m sure. Gotta stop at CVS. Scripts should be ready when we get there. The nurse already called them in”. 

“No problem, baby. You got food at your house? Stuff that’ll be easy for you to manage, till you get stronger? I can run into that Whole Foods near you, pick up a few things if you want”.

Confused, John turned his head to look at him, “What? Thought I was going home with you”.

“What? With me? I didn’t know that. You didn’t say that Johnny. You just asked me to pick you up, man”.

“I know Theo. Just thought you wouldn’t mind. Thought it’d be OK. Gonna need some help for a while. But no problem, I can go home. Can we get my scripts though? At the CVS near you”?

“Sure, we can Johnny. If you’re going to need help, can’t leave you on your own like that. I just didn’t understand what you meant. Sorry about that. Give me a minute, need to make a call first”. 

He pulled his phone out as he hurried from the room.

Later that afternoon, John was sitting on Theo’s sofa eating leftovers. He was troubled because he thought Theo had understood that he wanted to come here while he recuperated. Who else was gonna take care of him?   
He wasn’t close with his family at all. They didn’t approve of his lifestyle. He led a relatively quiet life, he had acquaintances, not friends. 

He had been so consumed with Mickey for so long, he hadn’t needed friends. And he had Theo, he always had Theo, so he didn’t need anyone else. Didn’t Theo know that? He should know that.

Theo sat down beside him, “Did you have enough? I made up the guest room for you, put your meds on the night stand, and laid an extra blanket on the bed. You got your own bathroom, snacks in the kitchen. Give me a list of what you like to eat, and I’ll have everything delivered. Anything else you need? Was thinking about having a nurse come in to make sure everything with the surgery is healing properly and shit. Want you to be comfortable here, man”. 

He’s putting me in the guest room again? What the fuck? 

He said, “Yes, I had enough, everything was good. Thank you for all you’re doing Theo. Really appreciate it, man. No need for a nurse. My appointment is early next week. But why am I in the guest room? You worried about hurting me or something Theo? That big ass bed you got, not a chance of that man”.

Theo laughed, “Well, that’s certainly a consideration. Don’t want you injured at all. I just think you’ll be more comfortable in there. Your own space”.

“You put me in there the last time I stayed over. What’s really going on Theo”?

“Nothing is going on, man. That’s exactly the point John. Nothing is going on. Last I heard, you were having a date night with Mickey, did something happen”? 

“Didn’t work out the way I planned. It’s over man. He’s with Ian, said that’s what he wants. He’s gone for good this time Theo. Gotta accept it,” he said sadly.

“Ah man. I’m so sorry Johnny. I know how much you love him. I know how you must feel. Look, stay here for as long as you need to. Get your head sorted and shit.”

John drew a shaky breath, “Thanks. Thought we could maybe talk about us. We never really stopped our thing. More like took a break. I still feel the same way Theo. Wanna give us another shot. I’m ready now”.

“Johnny, baby. I know you’re hurting bad. Anything you need, I’m here man, anything at all. But our time came, and it went, man. I’ll always care about you, you’re a good man, but you need to sort your shit, find someone you can love, who loves you back. He’s out there man, you just have to be in the right frame of mind to recognize him. Your mind has been cluttered for too long, you don’t know what you’re ready for, you don’t even know what you really want. If Mickey called right now, you’d take him back and you know you would. I’m not in any way, saying that’s wrong. Not my call. I’m just saying, take a break and start over baby. You can stay here for as long as you want. You’re welcome here. I’ll always be your friend man. We’re solid like that”. 

He sobbed as he listened to Theo talk. His life was ruined, he had no one now. All because of Ian Gallagher. He had been sure that Theo would be willing to take him back, give him another chance when he told him that Mickey was gone. Instead, Theo is saying that their time has passed. Why couldn’t someone love him like Mickey loved Ian? He hadn’t treated Theo nearly as bad as Ian had hurt Mickey. 

The fuck was wrong with everybody? Why couldn’t somebody just love him? 

He wiped his tears away and turned to Theo, “I was just so fucking caught up in Mickey. That’s over Theo. He went back to that asshole. I’m ready to move on. Really ready man. We were good, you and me. We were on our way to a life together. I’m telling you that I want that back Theo. I want you back man. I promise you I’m ready”.

Theo didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He understood human behavior, so he understood the pain and regret John was experiencing right now. He’d told John that he was looking for something solid, he hadn’t been ready for that, so they had backed up, and he moved on. He never held that against him. The guy was in love with someone else, he couldn’t be mad at him for that. 

He was thinking of how to respond to John when Jerry walked in with an arm full of grocery bags.

“Hey baby, it’s me. Picked up some things, for our guest”.

Theo looked at John, wishing he’d told him about Jerry sooner. He got up and went to the kitchen with Jerry. He kissed him and said, “I picked up a few things after I picked him up. Come on in here and meet him. Didn’t really get a chance to tell him about you. Come on”.

John was in shock. The fuck? This guy has a key? Theo never gave me a fucking key. He’s alright with me staying here? He’s why I’m in the fucking guest room? How serious is Theo about this fucker? He could never fucking win. 

He schooled his face to meet the fucker.

Jerry walked up to him smiling and extended his hand, “Hey John. I’m Jerry. How’re you doing man? Theo said you’d be staying with us for a while. Welcome”. 

John extended his hand, “I'm good, Jerry. How're you? Theo didn’t say he was with someone. I can go home, I’ll be fine on my own. Don’t wanna intrude, man”.

Jerry chuckled, “Not necessary. Theo wants you here, wants to make sure you’re OK. I’m good with that, man. Gonna put the groceries away and start dinner. How does Lamb chops, roasted courgettes with lemon, and a green salad sound? Oh yeah, got some mint jelly too. Sound alright guys”? 

John swallowed nervously as he sized him up. He was a lot shorter than Theo with a wiry build. He had tan skin with golden undertones, plump, kissable lips, light brown bedroom eyes, long lashes. He wore his hair in a shaped up undercut with curls on top, about 2 inches high. He had a thin mustache and a sexy 5 o’clock shadow.   
He was a fine motherfucker, that’s for sure. He fucking lives here. They’re really together. Shit. 

He realized they were waiting for him to answer Jerry’s question, so he quickly said, “Sure. Thanks Jerry. I love lamb chops and mint jelly”.

Jerry was looking at him curiously, “Good. I’ll get started then”.   
He glanced at Theo as he headed to the kitchen.

“Are you alright John? I was about to tell you about him when he walked in. You kinda threw me off with what you said. I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you. So sorry you were caught unawares man. I would never purposely make you uncomfortable. I hope you know that,” Theo said earnestly. 

Fuck that, he was not prepared for another fucking blow. He thought back to the night he and Theo saw Mickey and Ian at the club, to the song the band played. Another fucking TKO. He was out. No fucking body wanted him, no matter where he turned, he was turned the fuck away. Why? What the fuck was so wrong with him?

Theo was studying John intently. He decided this was not the time to coddle him. He placed a hand on his knee, “Look man, I know you’re shocked. I understand that. Jerry and I are solid man. We’re in love, talking commitment, marriage. You know I was looking for that, I told you as much. I let him know that your plan was to stay here while you recuperated, and that I wasn’t aware of it until I picked you up. He’s happy to have you here because he’s knows that I care about you. But understand John, if he wasn’t good with it, you’d have to make other arrangements, man. He’s my man, my priority now. Do you understand what I’m saying to you”? 

Well shit. I accept that asshole or get my ass out. What’s not to understand about that shit? That’s it. I’ve really lost him. All this was mine for the taking and I walked out on it. For Mickey. All for Mickey. He’s gone. Theo’s gone. I’m all alone. How did I fuck up so bad?

“John, I asked if you understand man”?

“Yeah. Theo, I understand. Happy for you and Jerry. Hope he knows what he’s got”.

Jerry had walked back into the room, “I know exactly what I have, John. Knew it from the very beginning. He’s exactly what I’ve been hoping for. He’s my dream come true. He wants you here, like I said, you’re welcome to stay if you want”.

John looked first at Theo, then Jerry, “Thanks guys. I’d like to stay for a while. Get my head sorted, shit like that. Don’t want to be alone right now. I won’t be any trouble”. 

Jerry clapped briskly, “OK then, it’s settled. Dinner in 15 y’all”.

Theo stood and pulled Jerry into his arms and kissed him tenderly, “How the fuck did I ever get so lucky? I love you so damn much, man”. 

Jerry blushed and kissed his cheek, “I’m the lucky one baby. I love you too,” he hurried off to the kitchen.

John’s heart ached as he watched them. That could’ve been me. Could’ve been me. Theo offered me everything, but I had to be available for Mickey. Fucked it all away for Mickey. Now I’m on the fucking outside, looking in. 

He turned to face Theo, “You knew that he wasn’t going to leave Ian didn’t you”?

“Yeah man, I knew it when I saw them together at the club that night. It was obvious to me then”.

“How? What was so damn obvious”?

“Just the way they were man. They were totally in synch. It’s like they’re totally connected, deeply connected. I could see that their connection had been breached, like they’ve been through the fire and shit, but they fought their way back together. Their bond is solid man. It was all there on full display. You just chose to ignore it. You’re in love, didn’t want to see it. You want him”.

“Why didn’t you tell me if you knew all that? If you saw all that shit?” he asked indignantly.

“Come on, man. Tell you what exactly? You knew that Mickey wasn’t going to leave Red, John. On some level you had to know it. Did he ever tell you he would? Did he ever tell you that he loved you?”

John shifted uncomfortably, “Well, no. But I thought since he came back to me, I was who he wanted. He was already with that asshole and he came back to me. I thought he had made his choice and just needed time to make up his mind to tell Ian”.

“John, I’ve known you for a long time, and I know you’re not stupid. I asked if he ever told you he would leave Red? Did he ever even tell you that he loved you, man? I never got the impression that Mickey was a flat-out dishonest person. Sure, he was out there fucking around, but I can’t imagine him flat out lying to you, John. I remember thinking that night, as soon as Red reels his ass in, he’s gone. Is that what happened? Did Red find out”? 

John averted his eyes, “Yeah. That night. Our big fucking date night. We were having a good time, Mickey had just gotten there, sat down sipping his drink, and Ian walks his ass up. Just like that. Just walks up to our booth. No warning, no nothing. It was just….there his ass was. Out of fucking nowhere. Fuck. Shit been rolling downhill at a fast clip from there. Mickey acts like he hates me, man. All I ever did is love him”.

“So, Red just walked up huh? He had to have been waiting for Mickey to get settled, probably watched y’all for a while. Wanted him to get comfortable. It’s what I would’ve done”. 

He chuckled and continued, “Red clocked your asses, huh? My man. I like that dude. No bullshit kinda fella”.  
John rolled his eyes, “If you could keep your fucking admiration to yourself please. 

You think he watched us, waited till we got comfortable”?

Before Theo could answer, Jerry walked in, “Dinner’s almost ready. Got everything on hold for a minute. Didn’t think you were ready yet. Mind if I sit”?

Theo pulled him down onto his lap and kissed his lips soundly, “Baby, you’re at home. You do whatever you want, you know that”.

Jerry looked over at John, “Just didn’t want to intrude. Heard the conversation from the kitchen”.

John blushed and said sharply, “No worries Jerry. Pretty sure Theo has told you some of this already”.

Jerry met his gaze full on, he spoke in an even tone, “Yes he did. Wanted me to have enough information before I agreed to having you stay in our home, John. That’s how we do things”.

“Didn’t mean any harm man, certainly didn’t mean any disrespect. Was just saying that it’s alright that you know,” John said sheepishly. 

He needed to get a grip before he lost his only friend. Theo will throw his ass out with one fucking word from Jerry.

Jerry nodded curtly, eyes never leaving John’s face. 

Theo cleared his throat, “So, you asked if I thought that Red waited for the right moment to walk up on y’all? Yeah, I think he did. He didn’t want any misunderstanding. He wanted Mickey to know that the shit was done. No more fucking around. Either him, or you”.

“That calculating bastard”, John spat.

“Nothing calculating about that man. That’s how the shit is done. He was reeling his man in. He came with the heat, John. Mickey could’ve stayed there with you. I’m sure Red didn’t haul his ass out of there. Hell, Mickey was probably more than ready to get the fuck up out of that bitch. I’d bet big money that Red never even raised his voice. Did he man? Am I right”?

“Nah., He didn’t say shit the whole time. Just told Mickey to calm the fuck down. Never even looked at me, not one damn time, like I didn’t even exist. Mickey was the one babbling and crying like a little bitch. I thought he was having a fucking nervous breakdown the way he was carrying on. Begging that asshole to take him home, begging for another chance. Fuck”. He wiped fresh tears from his eyes.

Theo reached over to pat his shoulder, “Man, they got a real love thing going on. My guess is, that shit was set a long time ago. It was borne out of struggle, hard times and shit. When they fell in love, they fell hard and forever. They belong together, that’s just the way it is, and woe be unto the unlucky fucker who tries to come between them. I’m sure that you aren’t the first one to get his ass handed to him fucking with those two”.

John rolled his eyes through another wave of fresh tears. Fuck if his head wasn’t killing him.

Jerry placed a hand on Theo’s arm, “OK Theo, don’t get carried away. Try a little tact, baby. He already feels bad enough”.

Theo laughed sheepishly, “Sorry. Why do you think he was fucking around with you, man? Any idea at all? I know you were with him because you love him, but I never understood why he was even fucking around, especially after I saw them together that night”. 

He explained the night at the club to Jerry who was listening intently.

John wiped his eyes with his hands, “He just said he liked being with me, liked what we did together and wasn’t ready to stop yet. He knew he was hurting me and wanted to call it off, but I begged him not to leave me. I just thought that if I gave him enough time, he’d leave that asshole and we could be happy. I was convinced that he loved me, was just too scared to admit it. I just love him so much, for so long he’s been all I wanted”.

“You weren’t thinking clearly. You wanted what you wanted, and that’s all you saw. I don’t know why he was with you, but I’d bet any amount of money that it wasn’t about you man. This shit is tied up in their convoluted history somehow. Sadly, you just caught up in it, Johnny. You stepped off into some deep shit man,” said with as much sympathy as he could muster.

“Theo said he left you once before for this guy”? Jerry asked him.

John sniffed and looked at him, “Yeah, then he came back after 3 years. Thought he needed me, couldn’t stay away any longer”.

“I’m sure he did need you John. Just not the way you need someone you want to build a life with. Not the way you need someone you’re in love with. Listening to you and Theo, I think he wanted Red / Ian to find out. He wanted to get caught. He wanted his man to stop him”. 

He stood as his phone beeped, “Sorry, got to take this,” and hurried from the room.

Theo chuckled as he met John’s curious look, “He’s a psychiatrist, man. That’s probably his answering service, he might be in there awhile. Let me know if you get hungry, I can hook us up. And close your mouth”.

John snapped his mouth shut, sat back and closed his tired eyes. Fuck me. I think I’m gonna take my vacation early this year. Hell, I might not even come back to this damn city. He needed to borrow Theo's laptop to check his bank balance.


	34. Mandy Fucking Poppins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian discusses a hiring issue with Mickey. 
> 
> Mandy learns valuable lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more loose end is tied up.
> 
> One more chapter left and we're done.

Ian was working at the desk in the living room and Mickey was sprawled out on the sofa, surrounded by folders and loose papers. 

Ian had been trying to think of the best way to broach the subject of Mandy for 15 minutes. He finally decided to just go for it.

“Mick can I talk to you for a minute”? 

Mickey rubbed his tired eyes and looked over at him, “Sure. What you need princess? Ready for a little recreational break”? 

He laughed as he pushed his chair back and stretched his longs legs out in front of him, “Not quite yet baby. All in due time. So, you know we’re close to implementing phase 1 of the program. Well, I’m creating a new position. We need a support person to track our progress. Make sure the trainers are keeping to their schedules, check in with community centers before and after the training, address any problems that come up. Shit like that. Charles would be the person’s direct report”. 

“Sounds like a good idea. The higher ups like it when you talk about continuous monitoring and shit. And it’s a useful tool for you, too. You can keep up with shit, catch it before things get out of control”. 

Ian went to the fridge for beers while Mickey was talking. He handed one to him and took his back to the desk, “Exactly. The person would have to be versatile, be able to stay on top of things, have good communication skills, good organizational skills, understand the community. I was thinking about Mandy”. 

Mickey sat his bottle down so abruptly it almost tipped over. He sat wondering if he’d heard correctly,   
“Mandy? Are you fucking kidding me? She’s the very definition of the person least suited for a job like that, man. She’s volatile, won’t take instruction let alone criticism. She’ll be cussing Charles out every day. She’ll turn that office into a fucking shit show. You need someone with an even temper who’s willing to learn. I know how you feel about her, want to help her and shit, but she’s the absolute worse choice Ian”. 

Ian was sipping his beer thoughtfully, “It took her a while to start, but she’s been going to that anger management support group for a while now. You told me that Iggy says she’s not as angry, more chill. I talked to her today and she seemed different, still Mandy, but not as hostile and defensive. You know”? 

“So, she’s Mandy fucking Poppins now? After a few support group meetings? Give me a fucking break, man. My sister lives to be hostile and mean spirited. Her first thought when she wakes up is who the fuck can I insult today”? 

Mickey’s tone was heavy with sarcasm, and he was pacing by now. 

“Mickey calm the fuck down. We’re just talking, fucks sake. I just think she deserves a chance. I really think she’d be good at it, baby”. 

Mickey was standing there with his arms folded, eyebrows quirked, “Seems like you’ve already decided. I just think you’d be making a big mistake, Ian. But ultimately, I trust your judgement. You’re the fucking big time VP and you know what you’re doing. Look how we’re living. You must know something, with your bad ass”. 

“Thanks. I value your thoughts, that why I brought it up. I’m thinking I’ll have her come in, like a pre-interview. Explain the job, make it clear that she will not have access to me, she’ll report to Charles, she will interview with him. I’ll explain our office culture, shit like that. I do have several conditions though. She will have to continue with the support group and provide Charles with proof of her ongoing attendance every week, monthly evals with him and he will provide me with a written narrative of those evals. I’ll meet with her and Charles at three-month intervals until we determine that her performance is enough to require less frequent supervision. What do you think”?

Mickey had been listening intently. He ran his hands through his hair and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, “Sounds pretty intensive. Could work, long as she knows she can’t run to you with shit. Use your friendship to bully people. Might work out. You’ve thought of everything that’s for sure. Good job princess. Let’s get a smoke. You wore me out with this Mandy bullshit”. 

Ian was beaming, “Thank you Mickey. Think I heard a compliment in there somewhere”. 

All he ever wanted was for Mickey to be proud of him. He got up and followed his man to the balcony. 

A week later, Ian sat at his desk, quietly studying Mandy. He had just finished explaining the position and his expectations. 

She took a deep breath, “You’re really offering me the job, Ian”? 

He sat back and smiled, “Is it something you’d be interested in? Something you think you’d be good at”? 

She was delighted, “Yes. Yes. I can do it Ian. When do I start”? 

He cleared his throat, “What do you think about my conditions Mandy? They are intensive, but non-negotiable”. 

She lowered her head self-consciously, “I understand why you want to keep a close eye on me, Ian. I’ve been working on my anger issues though. People in my group say they see improvement. Chanel, the group leader, she’s a social worker, says I’ve shown ‘marked improvement’. Marked improvement, can you believe that shit? Anyway, I’m really trying Ian. Learning better ways to cope with my anger, how normal people communicate. Some of the shit don’t make sense, but a lot of it does”. 

“I’m happy for you Mandy. Change is hard, especially with our background. Charles will be your supervisor. You’ll receive instruction from him, take your concerns, any issues to him. Not me. He will keep me in the loop. You OK with that”? 

“Yes. I can do that. No problem, Ian. You won’t be sorry. Been wanting to leave that diner for a long ass time, but I didn’t know what else I could do, you know? I think different now, been thinking about a lot of things. Especially Mick. I’m not going to say anything else about it though. This is gonna be my work place, no time for personal shit. I promise I’ll work hard Ian. Won’t give Charles any problems. You’ll see. You’ll be proud of me. Like you used to be a long time ago”. 

Ian reached his hand across his desk and clasped one of hers, “Good Mandy. I’m counting on it. I believe in you. Always have”. 

She snatched a tissue from the box on the desk and patted her eyes, “Making me ruin my makeup. That’s no way to treat a professional lady, you jerk”. 

He laughed loudly, “Professional lady, huh”? 

She was laughing too, “Small steps boss. Small steps”. 

They chatted for a few minutes before he surprised her, “Ready for your interview”? 

She jerked back in her seat in shock, “Now? Right now? I’m gonna have the interview now? Right now? You didn’t say that. Thought you just wanted to tell me about the job, and I’d come back later for the interview. Shit Ian”. 

He said very seriously, “Mandy you’ll do fine. You came here dressed appropriately. You look very nice, I might add. You are well spoken, minus the occasional cuss words. And you want the job. Right”? 

“Well, of course, I want the damn job Ian. But still….”. 

He chuckled as he picked up his desk phone, “Gonna tell Charles you’re ready for your interview”. 

She frantically dug through her purse, searching for her mirror and hair brush. 

A couple months later, Mickey was smiling as he walked into Ian’s office building with carryout containers from a deli near the hospital. They were having lunch in Ian’s office because he couldn’t get away. 

He saw Mandy waiting for the elevator. Shit. Just as he decided to take the stairs, she looked up and saw him. Fuck. 

He didn’t feel like hearing her bullshit. She looked different, he couldn’t put his hand on it, but something about her was different. 

Ian said she was keeping her head down and working hard, and Charles didn’t have any complaints. He was pleased to hear the news, mainly for Ian’s benefit. He steeled himself and walked over to the elevator.

“Hey Mickey. How’s it going? Having lunch with Ian”?

“Hey Mandy. Yeah, I brought him lunch. He’s too busy to go out today. How’s the job going”?

“Good. Pretty good. A lot to learn, really gets hectic sometimes, but I’m hanging in there. How’s everything with you”?

“I’m good”.

“This is probably the wrong time, but I want to apologize to you Mick. I’m sorry for the way I acted. For not visiting you when you were locked up, and for the way I talked to Sara that night. I’ve just been so damn angry for so long, kinda let it take over my life, I guess. My anger management group helps a lot, helps me see things in a different light, you know? I’m learning about triggers and coping skills, shit like that. I wanna apologize to Sara, if you think it’s alright. She might not wanna ever see my face again, I wouldn’t blame her. Mickey, I’m sorry I was so shitty to you. I apologized to Ian already. When I think about all that shit, I feel so bad. I’m trying hard to change Mick. I wanna do better, stop running the people I love away, you know”?

Mickey took her arm and nudged her to the side, they were blocking the elevator. He said, “Thanks for apologizing Mandy, means a lot. I’ll talk to Sara, ask if you can call her. I’ll have Ian let you know what she says. Best I can do. I’m glad you’re doing so well. I really am. Gotta get this food upstairs”.

“Right. OK. Sorry for keeping you. Just wanted to tell you that”.

“No problem. You going up”?

“Yeah. Gotta make a call to a community center. See how the training went yesterday, check for any problems and shit”. 

They stepped onto the elevator and Mickey asked, “So, you like what you do? The way Ian described it, sounds important. He said you’d be making sure shit runs smoothly. Sounds like a lotta fucking responsibility”.

She smiled bashfully, “Yeah. That’s basically what I do. They trust me around here. Expect me to take care of any problems on my own. Nobody breathing down my neck, insulting me, hitting on me. For the first time in my life, I feel good about myself Mickey. Feel good about what I do all day, look forward to tomorrow and shit. Chanel, my group leader, says I’m building self-esteem, learning to value myself and shit. She said I never felt like I was worthy of respect, of good things. She calls that self-worth. They both sound like the same thing to me, but she says they’re totally different. But, whatever, I’m getting both of them. I’m even saving money to get my own apartment. I make enough now to swing it on my own. My roommates are into the same old shit. Don’t wanna be around that shit anymore. It’s a fucking waste of fucking. I spend a lotta time reading self-help books and shit. Can you believe that? Me reading self-help shit”? 

The elevator stopped at their floor and they got out. 

“I can help you with the security deposit and shit, if you want”, he offered.

She smiled gratefully, “Thanks Mick, but I got it. I need to do this on my own. You know”? 

He smiled, “Yeah, I do know. I’m proud of you Mandy. If you do need help with anything, anything at all, let me know”.

She reached up and kissed his cheek, “I will Mick, thank you. Don’t forget about Sara, I need to get that done”.

“I won’t forget”.

He held the door to the office open for her and she hurried away to make her phone call.

As he stood there looking after her, it occurred to him what was different about her. The makeup. She wasn’t heavily made up. She was using it to accentuate her features, the way it was intended to be used. Her clothes covered her body. She was wearing a pretty blouse, and nice slacks. She looked like a professional woman, not a brash slut. 

His heart had clenched painfully when she told him that this was the first time in her fucking life that she looked forward to tomorrow. The first time she’s ever felt good about what she did all day. Fuck. 

He understood those feelings all too well. He was glad he ran into her today. He was glad to know that she was doing so well. 

Ian had been right to give her a chance. His man was a fucking genius. A sudden chill went down his spine as he thought about almost losing him, about the pain he caused him. He vowed once again to be the best partner in the fucking world. 

He stopped at Charles’ desk on his way to the small kitchen, “I’m gonna warm this food up, Charles”.

“Fine Mickey,” Charles said, rolling his eyes.

He swaggered away, smiling as he thought about his little sister finally carving out a fucking life for herself.  
Life was good.


	35. Still in Love, Still Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys enjoy a relaxing night at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be 1 more chapter and an epilogue.

Mickey was sitting between Ian’s legs on the sofa, they were eating ice cream from the carton, and he was in charge of the spoon. 

They were both in individual therapy. Mickey was being treated for traditional PTSD, and Ian was seeing a Post Infidelity Stress Disorder (PISD) specialist. 

“How the fuck can there be so many different kinds of stress and shit? I always thought stress was fucking stress. They got all these different categories, and sub fucking categories for rich fucks and hard-working people like us who just happen to have good benefits. Hell, I know people from the neighborhood been together 30-40 years, never went to no therapy. Called their mama for fucking advice if they didn’t know something. They got me going to one therapist and you going somewhere else. ‘Cause you got a different kinda stress. Far as I’m concerned, we both got fucking stress. One-stop therapy, far as I’m concerned. Then, when you’re done with your ‘specialist’, they want us to go to fucking ‘couples’ therapy’. Fuck, we’ll be in therapy till Liam’s fucking grand kids are grown. I know it’s worthwhile and shit. Learning a lot about myself and shit. I’m just saying they could be more fucking economical in their approach”.

Ian laughed and gave him an open-mouth kiss, smearing ice cream on his face. 

“I hear you, baby. But, you gotta weigh the benefits, making our relationship stronger, against the cost, dollars and time. Those couples from the neighborhood spend their lives tied down to people they fucking hate. They see their mate coming down the fucking street, and they start frowning. Get fucking stomach aches, headaches, heartburn, all kinda deadly shit. They want the fuck out, but don’t know how, most can’t afford to leave. They’re fucking doomed. It’s killing both of ‘em, Mickey. They mad fuck on the weekend. Kids maladjusted and shit. At least we get to talk to somebody who understands. Kind, compassionate, trained people. Probably get sick to death of hearing that shit all day, but they get paid well to sit on their asses, look concerned, and listen to us complain about our fucking circumstances”. 

Mickey giggled, thinking of his therapist, pot-bellied, Dr. Black, with those half frame glasses perched on his moon face.

“The fuck you giggling at, with your silly ass?” Ian asked.

“Thinking about Dr. Black’s crazy looking ass. Fucking glasses always fogging up. Always wanna tell him to take those fucking things off till I leave. Fucking distracting. I’m sitting there listening to him tell me how my fucking identity formation was disrupted and shit, I look up at his cartoon looking ass and wanna laugh my ass off. How the fuck is that helpful, Ian”?

He knew that Mickey liked his therapist. He was laughing himself, “He can’t help how he looks, Mick. You just gotta look past it. But he is funny looking”.

“A question. The fuck is mad fuck, Ian”?

“Oh. When they fuck on Friday and Saturday night, there’s not even the pretense of gentleness, no care is taken, just wanna get off themselves, don’t care if their partner did or not, probably get pissed if the partner did cum. When they're done, turn their fucking backs, kick the partner outta the damn bed. Go in the fucking kitchen and play Solitaire, smoke two packs of cigarettes, drink a 5th of cheap whiskey, fucking up all the damn grocery money. Go on the couch to sleep. Throw a chair through the fucking window. Fight. Who the fuck knows? Just a hostile situation”.

Mickey turned to look at him, “You learn that in therapy tough guy? On second thought, I guess the shit you just described can be fucking trauma inducing”. He laughed at his own cleverness. 

Ian quickly ate the spoonful Mickey was about to put in his own mouth, “Fuck you Mickey. No, I didn’t learn that in therapy. Just an observation based on growing up in the fucking neighborhood”.

“You a fucking anthropologist now or some shit”? Mickey was laughing his ass off.

Ian was laughing too, “Shut the fuck up and give me some more ice cream. You’re just trying to distract me so you can eat it all. You ain’t slick, slick”.

Mickey turned around and kissed him.

Later that night, they were sitting on the balcony smoking. 

“Glad the balcony is heated. Didn’t know that was even a thing. You’re doing well for yourself, Gallagher. All the amenities and shit,” Mickey said, laughing.

Ian leaned over and kissed him, “We’re doing well for ourselves, baby. It’s all about us. Our life, Mickey. Always gonna be that way”.

“I know, baby. Just joking with you. It’s all about us. We’re gonna make it, Ian. Like you said, this shit was set back when we were kids. Set in fucking stone”.

They smoked quietly for a while, each with their own thoughts.

Ian thought about his last therapy session. His therapist explained that very few events have a more painful effect than discovering infidelity in a committed relationship. 

He said the after-effects are like the psychic disorientation victims of earthquakes experience.  
The betrayal strikes at the very core of who you are, who your partner is, and what you believed to be true about your relationship. Your basic assumption was that you could trust your partner. You find out that’s no longer true, you’re left reeling. Fucking fighting to stay afloat.

Ian was learning to re-frame his thoughts about the shit. Set aside raw emotion, and figure out what the shit really meant to him. He was learning to face his fears and insecurities. His fear of being vulnerable with Mickey was getting better. 

His fear that Mickey would do it again was stubborn, harder to manage, but he was determined to keep at it. He knew that he had to be able to trust him to never cheat again. No two ways about it. He had to get it done. 

He had stopped telling himself that he didn’t deserve to be cheated on, that was a fucking given. He was making the effort to stop all ruminating. Going over and over the shit, when nothing about it was gonna change, made no fucking sense. Plus, it was wearing him the fuck out, keeping him mad and focused on the wrong shit. 

Instead, he focused on the good between them. He believed that the balance of their life together outweighed the pain of the cheating. He was going with that. 

He was finally able to acknowledge Mickey’s pain without thinking that he fucking deserved to be in pain. He understood that one reason for Mickey’s pain was knowing that his behavior was the root cause of Ian’s suffering. 

He remembered the night he woke up to the sound of Mickey sobbing. That had been the turning point for him. He had to take him back or let him go. Forever. 

He looked over at him and smiled. They would be fine. Hell, they were fine.

Mickey smiled back at him, eyes filled with love.

He was mulling over his own therapy session. It seemed like that shit was never far from his mind. Dr. Black suggested that cheating could be a fucking coping mechanism for fear of being alone. What the actual fuck? 

He explained that coping mechanisms are simply strategies people use to help manage painful or difficult emotions. Well, shit.

Mickey was curious about that identity formation shit. Seems his emotions and intellect didn’t integrate right, he was too busy trying to fucking survive. That’s how the deficient self-worth came in to play. He never had a chance to feel secure.

At least he’s still alive, he can work on integrating that shit now. Maybe one day he would feel secure. He was learning appropriate coping skills, ones that wouldn’t hurt Ian. 

He thought about the pamphlet he picked up while he was waiting for Ian’s session to end last week.

It was a guide to assist Ian in his recovery, talked all about how not to undermine it and shit. He’d read it three times already. He intended to commit it to memory, he didn’t want to miss a thing. Just like he did with that pamphlet he picked up when Ian was diagnosed with bipolar all those years ago. All in all, therapy wasn’t a bad thing. 

He looked over at his man and smiled. 

He was the luckiest man alive. They were still in love and still together.


	36. The Boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles is confused when Ian has him schedule an in-service for the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue is next.

Charles hung the phone up after scheduling the speaker for the in-service. He didn’t understand why they were even having an in-service on work place relationships. He wasn’t aware of any such problems. 

They were all so busy with the implementation of Phase II of Ian’s new program, no one had time for that non-sense. Most everyone had been here for years, they all got along well, he hadn’t picked up on any romantic entanglements. Hell, if he had he would’ve spoken to Ian immediately so they could decide together how to handle the situation. He was, after all, Ian’s eyes and ears. 

Mandy was the only recent hire and she was far too busy for shit like that. She was cordial with everyone, but she kept it moving. He couldn’t recall ever seeing her loitering about. She was a model employee as far as he was concerned, even if she was Mickey’s sister. He knew that Ian was pleased with her performance.

The whole thing was odd because Ian usually ran things by him. He was the second in command. Ian depended on his counsel, wanted his input, his ideas. No, he didn’t understand this at all.  
Instead of emailing Ian, he decided to let him know in person that the in-service was scheduled. 

He knocked on Ian’s door and opened the door. Ian looked up, “Yes Charles, what do you need”? Charles noticed that he didn’t smile.

He stepped inside, “Just wanted to let you know the in-service is scheduled for Friday at 1:00. Shall I put out the memo”?

“Very good. Yes, go ahead with the memo”. He went back to the report he was working on. 

Did he just dismiss me, Charles wondered? He never treats me like this. He only acts like this when Mickey has upset him. What the fuck has he done now? 

He cleared his throat, “I was wondering why we’re having the in-service, Ian? I don’t know of any problem relationships in the office. I would’ve have come to you if I did”.

Good, he opened the door, Ian thought. I don’t want to embarrass him, but this shit’s gotta stop. Should’ve handled it a long time ago. That’s a flaw in my management style. Gotta learn to deal with employee issues in a timely manner. Hoping shit will sort itself won’t fucking do. Now this is happening. 

“Have a seat, Charles. Let me explain my reasoning”. 

Charles smiled and sat down. He just forgot to mention it to me. Can’t hold it against him, he works so hard. Then he has to go home and deal with Mickey’s ass. Whatever. We’re getting back on track. He values me, values my input.

Ian sat back, placed his hands on the desk, and looked directly at Charles,

“Sometimes we might not know that our behavior is making someone uncomfortable. The behavior may not be intentional, but it could be offensive, none the less. Say for instance, a person develops feelings for someone he works closely with and those feelings are not reciprocated. Maybe he knows the person doesn’t feel the same way and he doesn’t care. Maybe he thinks he’s being subtle, and no one knows. Regardless of what he thinks, that makes for an uncomfortable work environment. Take it a step further, say the person is an essential employee, a valued employee. He has lots of responsibility, anticipates problems and solves the issue immediately, requires minimal supervision. The person does his job well, is always professional. He is respected by everyone, both professionally and personally. He may not mean any harm, he’s just not aware that his behavior is offensive to the person he has feelings for. I think the in-service will educate us all on behaviors that can be considered offensive to others in the workplace. One of my primary goals, Charles, is to maintain a productive, cohesive work environment. Workplace relationships are fine with me, so long as the parties involved agree and their productivity isn’t compromised. Any questions about any of that, Charles”? 

He’s talking about me. I know it. He didn’t say it, but I know it. Shit. He’s telling me to back off. 

Ever the professional, Charles said, “No, Ian. No questions. I’ll get the memo out. Do you want to proof it first”?

“Not necessary. I trust your judgement completely, depend on it, actually”.

With that, Ian went back to his work.

Charles quickly left the office, making sure he didn’t slam the damn door. 

Ian pushed the report aside and massaged his temple when Charles left. 

He started an informal file on Charles a few weeks ago, documenting his more obvious behaviors, and his own impression of the behaviors. He opened the file and quickly documented the meeting today. 

He needed to protect himself in case Charles decided to file a harassment complaint against him. He knew enough to cover his ass. 

He felt a fucking headache coming on. He went to the window and looked out on the busy street, people hurrying about, traffic moving slowly, horns blaring. A typical Chicago work day.  
He hoped Charles understood him. From the mortified look on his face, Ian was almost certain he did. Then again, he thought the guy would get the message back when he deliberately started putting distance between them.  
He stopped walking out with him months ago, he rode home with Mickey, and most days they had lunch together. He and Charles still discussed the day’s agenda every morning. That was a necessity. He would expect that from any person that held Charles’ position.  
He hoped that his approach had been tactful. He didn’t want to embarrass the guy, but his behavior was becoming unacceptable. As long as his feelings weren’t blatant, he saw no need to address the situation. People feel how they fucking feel. His feelings hadn’t impacted his work, and he was always professional.  
Then the longing looks intensified, he even caught the guy blatantly checking him out a few times, and the hovering around him at every opportunity, just became too much.  
Last week he was coming out of the break room and Mickey was standing at Charles’ desk. Mickey was blocking his sight, so Charles didn’t see Ian coming. When Mickey turned around to greet him, Ian saw the anger and hostility on Charles’ face. He recovered quickly, but Ian saw it.  
He decided then, enough of this shit. After Mickey left, he instructed Charles to schedule the in-service. He would hate to lose Charles. He was valuable to the company, he had years of distinguished service. He was loyal and dedicated to the success of the company. He was extremely loyal to Ian. It would be difficult to replace him, but he can be replaced. No one is irreplaceable. No one except his Mickey.  
He decided to find a seminar focused on helping managers deal with employees. He knew that was a flaw in his management style, a definite deficit. He needed to fix it. He would see if Mickey wanted to attend the seminar with him.  
Such seminars usually ran for an entire day, sometimes two days. They could relax and learn together. Maybe he could find one in another city. That would be fucking great. He was on it. 

Charles sat at his desk, stunned. He was fucking stunned. Ian tried to be respectful of his feelings, using thinly veiled hypotheticals. But he knew Ian was describing him. He was so embarrassed. He’s never had something like this happen to him. Shit.

Would Ian put it in his work file? Formally discipline him? Fuck. No, because he didn’t sign anything. He wasn’t in the union, supervisors couldn’t join. They were considered management, executive staff. They were still covered by union guidelines, for the most part. He knew that certain steps had to be followed in disciplinary procedures. 

No, Ian wasn’t going to write him up. Not yet. If after the in-service, the behaviors didn’t stop, Ian would formally discipline his ass. He didn’t doubt that for a minute. 

He needed to get a damn grip. He couldn’t lose his fucking job. He loved working here, making sure things ran smoothly. Making sure Ian succeeded. Ian’s ideas were innovative, and he was excited to be part of the changes Ian was making. The company had been stagnated before he took the position.

Now, he was excited to come to work every day. He was proud of his boss and he was grateful that Ian trusted him to work independently. Trusted him to get shit done. No, he didn’t want to lose his damn job, and he didn’t want to make Ian uncomfortable, jeopardize their working relationship.

He was helplessly in love with Ian. He accepted that early on, but he didn’t want to lose his job over it. The way things were going, he didn't stand a chance anyway. Mickey Milkovich. 

Being a practical person, he decided that he could have both. He could be around Ian and he could keep his job. 

He just needed to back off. 

Cool it. Get a damn life. He would do it. He had no choice. Shit.


	37. Forever Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an epilogue of sorts.
> 
> One year later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song, Forever Mine, by the O'Jays
> 
> I think this is a bit longer than the traditional epilogue.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took this journey along with me. I appreciate your passion for the story, and I took your comments seriously.

One Year Later

Mickey spotted Dr. Shaw, the new psychiatrist, hurrying down the hall. Dude is always in a fucking hurry. He joined the staff a few months ago. Mickey liked talking to the guy. He was down to earth, never put on airs and shit.

“Yo Doc. Wait up”, he called as he rushed to catch up to him.

The doctor turned around smiling, “Hey Mickey. What’s up man? How’re you doing”?

“I’m good, man. Real good. You on your way to see a patient? Got time for a cup of coffee”?

“Not today. Another time, though? On my way to meet my fiancé. Walk with me”. He liked the younger man. Everyone liked him. He was respected by the hospital staff. If rumors were to be believed, his departments were among the most productive in the hospital. He was currently spear heading a historic collaboration between the hospital, and an ambulance company that targeted the south side. Sara, Theo’s close friend, was sponsoring a fundraiser to kick-off the project tomorrow night. Mickey was an impressive young man. He was going places.

Mickey fell in step with the doctor, “Getting hitched, huh? Congratulations Doc. Must be something in the air, man. Gonna pop the question myself, tomorrow night at the fundraiser shindig. Gonna put a ring on that shit".

The doctor stopped and turned to him grinning, “Well, congratulations Mickey. Indeed, something is in the air. Best wishes to you, man”.

Just then, Theo walked up with his signature smile. He placed a hand on the doctor’s shoulder, “Hey baby. Figured you got tied up, thought I’d meet you. Hey Mickey. What’s up man? Haven’t seen you in a while. Ready for your big night? Sara told me all about it. Wrangled a big ass commitment out of me. Even had me go through my rolodex to hit up my friends and associates, and shit”.

Mickey was stunned. Theo? Doc is with Theo? Well, shit. 

He recovered quickly, “Hey Theo. What’s up, man? Doc just gave me the news. Congratulations”.

Jerry said, “Mickey’s got news of his own. He’s going to propose tomorrow night. How cool is that shit?”

Theo smiled knowingly, “You and Red, huh? Good on you, man. Good on you”.

Jerry’s mind was working fast. Red? This is Mickey? That Mickey? Well, shit.

Just as he was about to speak, his name came over the loudspeaker. Shit.

“They’re playing my song. Shouldn’t be long, baby. Meet you back in my office?” 

He turned to Mickey, “Congratulations again, Mickey. Hope to get an invite. Gotta run”. 

He pecked Theo’s lips and took off like a flash, carefully avoiding a collision. Everyone knew by now, to watch out when they saw him coming. 

Mickey said, “Sure thing, Doc”. 

Then he laughed, and turned to Theo, “Dude can move. Always rushing around. Had to run to catch up to him just now”.

Theo looked after Jerry lovingly, “Yeah, man. He takes his shit seriously. They call, he’s there. No fucking around, he’s there”.

“He’s a good doctor. One of the best. Nurses love him, other doctors always wanna consult with him and shit. He’s a good dude, man. I was asking him to go for coffee when he told me about the engagement. Had no idea it was you, man. You’re two lucky dudes. Wanna get a coffee while he’s handling his shit?”

Theo pulled out his phone to text Jerry and said, “Let’s do it. We can catch up and shit. I’ll let him know I’m in the cafeteria”. 

They headed to the cafeteria.

They were sitting at a corner table with their coffee. Mickey was curious. How did Theo know Ian? He called him ‘Red’. 

He sipped his coffee and asked, “So, you know Ian?”

Theo chuckled, “We’ve never been introduced. Saw y’all together at a club one night. That hair stands out”.

Mickey knew the night he was referring to. He blushed uncomfortably, “That night. I saw you there, too”.

Theo held his gaze, still smiling, “Figured you did. Glad you worked it out, man. You two belong together. That shit was clear as daylight to anyone who chose to see it, man.”

He didn’t want Mickey to be uncomfortable around him. He had agreed to invite he and Jerry to his fucking wedding. At Jerry’s request.

So, he said, “Look man, no worries. We’re all grown ass men. We do what we do. Sometimes we regret the shit, sometimes not. We make it right, if we’re lucky enough to get another chance. We move forward with lessons learned and shit. John had his own ideas. He wanted what he wanted. Reality be damned. In your situation, someone had to get hurt. He knew that, he hoped it would be Ian. Turned out, he was it. He rolled the dice and crapped out. Got his ass handed to him. He’s not some naive adolescent who fell in love for the first time, Mickey. Sure, he’s a good dude. I care about him, wish him well and shit. But he miscalculated, and fucked himself. When you set out to do shit like that, you need to evaluate the risk. He didn’t do that. Nothing anyone could say would deter him. He was single minded in his determination. Some would say he got what he deserved”.

“I take your point, man. Ian said pretty much the same shit. I just feel bad, I caused them both so much pain, man. Almost lost Ian over that shit. He’s still trying to get past it. We’re still trying to get past it. We’re in couples’ therapy and shit. Working hard to repair the damage and shit. I fucked up so bad, Theo”.

“I hear you, man. Glad you’re working on it. Still, you’ve got to let John have his share of the blame for his pain. That’s all I’m saying”.

Jerry sat down with a bottle of juice, “He’s right, Mickey. John thought he knew what he was doing. He didn’t. Bad judgement has a price, man. He stayed with us after he was discharged. He didn’t know about me until I walked in, ready to cook dinner for us all. His plan was to rekindle things with Theo. That plan was thwarted right away. He was in a bad way, couldn’t accept responsibility for anything. I talked to him a few times while he was there, when we were alone. Theo has a way with words when he gets riled up. I told him to be more tactful, the guy was in pain. Anyways, one day John asked me ‘what’s wrong with me? why is it that nobody wants me?’ 

I turned the question back on him. I said, Yes. Good question John. 'What do you think is wrong with you?’ That’s what you need to explore.

I can tell you about the conversation because I wasn’t seeing him professionally. We were simply having a conversation. No ethical violations”.

Mickey was listening intently, “I see what you’re saying. What both of you’re saying. I was telling Theo that Ian and I are in couples’ therapy. I’m also in individual therapy. I got so much shit in my past. Learning how it shaped my fucking identity. My default position has always been, something went wrong, it must be my fucking fault because I’m a bad person. Working hard to correct that and other shit. Fucking psychiatrist calls it re-framing and shit”.

Jerry smiled, “Good for you, Mickey. You’ll be fine. You want to understand your flaws, want to change. That’s a good thing. We all have flaws, it’s the human condition. Most people have the mistaken belief that they’ve always been that way, that’s just the way it is. So, they don't even try to change. But you’re rejecting that assumption, learning why you have certain flaws. It’s called insight, Mickey. There’s nothing more valuable. I’m proud of you, man. I see why everyone around here sings your praises. You’re alright, man”.

Mickey smiled bashfully, “Thanks Doc. Coming from you, that means a lot”.

Theo laughed heartily, “What he said. Ditto that. You’re that fucking guy, man. Now, when are we gonna formally meet Red”?

They didn’t tell Mickey that John relocated to Macon, Georgia. Sara has a friend with law practice there, and she was able to secure him a job. He takes night classes at Mercer University School of Law. He swore off dating, deciding that he needed to sort his shit out alone. He likes the city, the change has been good for him. He’s making friends, doing well. He stays in touch with Theo and Jerry, he thinks of them as his close friends.

Ian was almost done for the day, he had one more document to sign. He'd been in meetings all day, finalizing the details for the company’s collaboration project with the hospital. He and Mickey came up with the idea. They worked on the proposal together, presented it together, and they would implement it together. It was their baby. 

Charles knocked and rushed in, “Got it, Ian. Had to stand over her to get it, but I got it”. 

He placed the document on Ian’s desk with a flourish. He was harried, but obviously pleased with himself.

Ian laughed as he signed it, “Very good, Charles. Sit down, catch your breath for a minute”.

He laughed, “Don’t have time. Got a couple details to check on. Gotta make sure everything is perfect for tomorrow night. Mandy is handling one of them, so I know it’ll be done right. What time is Mickey coming? I forgot one thing when he was here for that meeting this morning. Didn’t want to bother him after he left, figure I could corner him when he came to pick you up? What time is he coming? Not too late, I hope. Not that there’s a deadline or anything, just want to get it done, know what I mean”?

“Charles sit down and shut the fuck up. Sit down for a minute. That’s a fucking order”. 

He grinned sheepishly and sat down, “Sorry. I’m just so excited. This is gonna be great. We’re making history with this project. Just think of the positive impact on the community, and I’ve been involved from the very beginning. This is the best place to work in the world, Ian”. He paused to take a breath. 

Ian laughed as he handed him a glass with a shot of Jack. The Jack he kept in his cabinet for Mickey. 

“Here, Charles. Drink this and calm the fuck down, man. I’m happy you’re so excited, but you’re gonna wear yourself out. We need you fit for tomorrow night. Depending on you to take care of any glitches. You do know how important you are to this project, don’t you? We depend on your expertise, me and Mick, we both depend on you, Charles”.

He smiled gratefully, “Yes. I know. Thank you for saying it, though”.  
“You’re welcome, Charles”.

Just as Charles took a sip, Mickey knocked and stepped in, “Was wondering where you were, Charles”.

He walked around the desk and kissed Ian, “Hey baby. You alright? Sounded stressed out when we talked at lunch time. Sorry I couldn’t make it back. The fucking director called me in. Wanted to go over some shit. Shit we already covered. Then he wanted to talk about the fundraiser. Let me go after two hours. My day was shot to hell after that. I need a Charles for my fucking office”.

Charles blushed and looked down at his shoes.

“I was just telling him how much we depend on him. Had to make him sit his ass down, made him a drink,”  
Ian said, handing the drink he poured for himself to Mickey.

Mickey took the drink and sat on the couch, “Thanks, baby. Always know what I need”. 

“Years of practice, Mick”.

Mickey looked at Charles’ drink, “Need some ice, man? You look like a light weight”.

Charles laughed, “Yeah, Mickey. I’ll take some ice, thanks”.

Mickey took his glass and dropped two ice cubes in it, “Here you go man. Bottoms up”. 

Ian poured himself another and took a sip. There was an urgent knock at the door, Charles glanced around worriedly.

Mickey laughed, “Calm down, man. You’re in your boss’s office”.

Ian wondered who it could be, “Come in”.

Mandy stuck her head in, “Hey. Looking for Charles”.

She walked in, closed the door and turned to Charles, “Got it done, all taken care of. But we got another problem”, she said biting her lip nervously.

Charles shot up, “Shit. Bet it’s the seating capacity. I told them to open another adjoining room. So what if it's the fourth time? Should’ve just listened to me at first. All kinds of people want to come, not just the damn elite. I told them that people from the community would wanna come. They’re just slow about RSVPing. Some might not even know what that shit means. I took all that into account when I talked to those assholes the first time. Damn it”.

Mickey looked over at his sister and patted the seat next to him, “Stop chewing your damn lip up and sit the fuck down. Come on over here”.

“Mick, I don’t have time to sit down right now. I came to get Charles. Gotta get this fixed. Sara’s waiting for me to call her back with an update”, she said indignantly, looking at Charles who was pacing, running his hands through his usually perfect hair.

“Alright. Enough. Both of you sit and calm the fuck down”, Ian barked.

He handed his drink to Mandy, “I said sit down, Mandy and drink this. Charles, I said sit down and finish your drink. Sara knows you’re working on it. You’ll call her when you have something to say. Something other than, you’re being committed to the fucking psych unit to be treated for a nervous breakdown. Now sit down and shut the fuck up about it for a minute”.

Mickey laughed, “Talking about fucking devoted employees. These two are another fucking level. They’re giving me fucking anxiety”.

Charles and Mandy obediently sat down and sipped their drinks.

Ian and Mickey exchanged a soft look. It was not lost on them how much those two believed in them, in their vision for the company, for the hospital, and for the community. 

They were amazed by Mandy's and Charles' commitment, and by how much they wanted the project to be a success, and how proud they were to be involved. 

It felt good to be an inspiration to others. Ian and Mickey were humbled. 

Around the same time time Mickey and Ian were getting Ian's employees sloshed, Iggy and Tanya were at the mall. Iggy insisted she buy something pretty for the big party tomorrow night. He had already scheduled overtime hours for himself next week to make up for the money they spent on her tonight. He didn't want to get behind on the bills. 

She was so proud of him. He was promoted a couple months ago. He was now responsible for scheduling the routes for the drivers. It was a lot of pressure, he worked hard, but he loved it. And he was good at it. Mickey had even told him that he was the best scheduler he’s ever had. 

Iggy cried when he told Tanya what Mickey said. He sobbed, “Nobody ever told me I was good at something before. Never been in charge of shit before. Never had people depending on me to get it done. Believing in me and shit”. 

She held him and told him how wonderful he was and how proud of him she was.

She looked up from the rack of fancy dresses and smiled at him. He was sitting in a chair holding their 16 month old baby daughter close to his heart. 

She was so glad she hadn't listened when people told her that he was a lowlife thug and she’d spend her life riding the fucking bus to Beckman Correctional every visiting day. People didn’t know shit. 

Later that evening, Mickey compulsively fingered the small box in his pocket. He planned to propose tomorrow night after the fundraiser. 

But he really wanted to do it now. They’d both be tired as hell tomorrow night. He chuckled as he imagined Ian yawning while admiring his ring.

“What Mick? What're you laughing at? You still laughing at Mandy and Charles? They were funny as hell. Hope they get a good night’s rest or they won’t be worth a damn tomorrow night”.

“I know. Mandy's going to Sara’s for the night. I texted Sara to make sure Mandy relaxes, sleep late. What the fuck ever people do. How ‘bout you? Tired? Ready to turn in”?

“Nah, I’m good. Thought we’d relax, watch a movie. Feel like it”?

“Yeah, sounds good. What about snacks? Kinda hungry myself, and you haven’t eaten since lunch I bet. If you even had fucking lunch what with Charles running around like a crazy person. Sure he didn’t have time to remind you to eat”.

“I bought lunch for the office. Had the deli deliver. We had all kinds of trays and shit. People were eating all damn day. Nobody sat down to eat, they just grabbed shit in passing and kept it moving. They all seemed satisfied though. The janitor is probably wondering what the fuck went on in there”.

Mickey kissed him, “You’re such a good boss, baby. Always take care of your people. That’s why they all love your ass so much. You’re a fucking gem, Ian. Proud of you man, and so fucking lucky to be loved by you”.

Ian smiled bashfully, “Thank you, Mickey. Always glad to hear you’re proud of me. A lot of it I learned from you. You always take care of your people. They would fucking kill for you”.

“OK. Enough fucking chit chat. You still need to eat. Lunch was a long time ago. Wanna order in”?

They decided on pasta from the Italian restaurant they loved.

Ian was loading the dishwasher when he noticed Mickey busy with his phone,

“Something wrong at work, baby”?

“Nah, just looking for something. You almost done? Need you in here for a minute”.

“OK. You decide on a movie yet”?

“Not yet. Come on over here”.

Ian walked over and stood there expectantly.

Mickey dimmed the lights and went back to his phone.

The instrumental version of ‘Forever Mine’ by the O'Jays started playing. Mickey took Ian in his arms and started singing as they swayed to the music.

Ian’s mouth was hanging open as he held onto him and fell into step. 

The fuck is going on? He’s fucking singing and dancing again? Did I miss something? It’s not our birthday? What’s going on?  
He decided to settle down and enjoy Mickey’s beautiful voice. He was singing his natural ass off right now.

Forever mine,  
All because you're my kind.  
Aw, baby,  
I got what you want, you got what I want,  
An` we were made for each other. (oo-oo)  
Forever mine,  
An` I`m so glad  
`Cause it gets better with time.  
Oh, baby  
I like what you like, you like what I like,  
An` we were made for each other.  
You are that someone I've been hopin`,  
I've been lookin` for all my days.  
Don`t you ever think about leavin`,  
This heart of mine would be grievin`.  
Don`t go...stay...stay.  
Forever mine,  
Aw, we`re, we`re one of a kind.  
I need what you need, you need what I need,  
And we were made for each other.  
Oh, baby,  
I want to love you,  
Love you so, make it good,  
Right down to the bone, to the bone.  


`Cause it`s you I`m thinkin` about pleasin`,

Give you Give you all the love you`re needin`.

Don`t go..(please) stay (stay) stay.

Forever mine,

`Cause you and me, we get along just fine.

I got what you want (good love),

And we were made for each other.

Aw, we`ve been around

And I've had a lot of loves

And I know you had a lot of loves, too

But I ain`t never had nobody

That do the things you do.

We go together,

Well, like the birds in the trees.

I`d be in a round of trouble, boy,

If you wasn't here with me...stay!

Forever mine

Oh, `cause, `cause you`re my kind.

You know that I like what you like (good love),

You like what I like (good lovin`),

And we belong together.

I got what you want, you got what I want,

And we were made for each other,

For each other, boy,

You know that

(I like what you like) It gets better,

p>We were made for each other, boy

For each other, baby.

I got what you want

So don`t you ever think about leavin`

I like what you like

'Cause it`s you I`m thinkin` about pleasin`

I know that the, ah

Don`t ever think about leavin`

I need your lovin`

Oh, baby... and if you leave me

'Cause it`s you I`m thinkin` about pleasin'

Never think about leavin'

(Don`t do it) don`t do it (don`t do it) oh, baby

It`s you I`m thinkin` about pleasin`

Don`t you ever think about leavin` (Don`t do it)

Don`t do it, baby?

When the song ended, Mickey kissed him passionately and lead him to the sofa. Ian still had no fucking idea what was going on, so he just went with it. But he sure loved this romantic Mickey.

Mickey knelt in front of him and took his hand, “Ian, I love you with all my heart. The best years of my life have all been spent with you. We’ve been through the fucking fire, baby, and we’re still together. We withstood the pain, Ian. I pledge all my love and devotion to you. I will spend the rest of my life making you happy, being the man you deserve. I promise you, that, Ian. Will you marry me, baby? I want you always and forever. I love you. Please say yes, Ian”.

He held the ring out, patiently waiting for Ian’s hand. 

Ian’s heart was thundering in his chest, he was lightheaded, tears were running down his cheeks. He wants to marry me. We’re gonna get married. Fuck.

He whispered, “Yes, Mickey. Yes, baby. Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you so damn much. Yes. Yes”.

Mickey smiled the most beautiful smile and placed the ring on his finger.

Ian gasped, it was beautiful. It was platinum with a square band, the matte finish contrasted beautifully with the polished inlays.

He gazed at his finger in wonder. Oh, Mickey. Look what you did. My love. My sweet love. 

Mickey was in awe, too. Shit. That’s fucking beautiful on his hand. Well, fuck. My husband. My fucking husband forever.

When Ian looked up, he graced Mickey with a radiant smile. It took Mickey's breath away, tears clouded his vision.  
He thought, he’s fucking happy. I made my man happy. I fucking love him.

Ian pulled him into his arms and kissed him passionately. Mickey had to struggle free, “Fuck. Ian, I can’t fucking breathe. Gonna kill me before we get hitched, baby”?

Ian wiped his face as he gazed at him, “I took your breath away”?

“Yeah, baby. You took my breath away”.

“We’re even then. You sure took my breath away. It’s beautiful, Mickey. Never seen anything more beautiful in my damn life. I love you so much”.

Mickey kissed him tenderly.

Ian suddenly jumped up and grabbed his laptop, Mickey looked on curiously. The fuck?

“Come on over here. Scoot over here, Mick. Let’s pick a date”.

He looked at his baby, eyes shining with love, “OK baby. Let’s pick a fucking date”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here and Now is the sequel to this story.


End file.
